


I don't particularly like Scott.

by Herlilacskies



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abused Stiles Stilinski, Abusive Sheriff Stilinski, Alpha Derek, Alpha Derek Hale, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad Parent Sheriff Stilinski, Child Abuse, F/F, F/M, I'll be adding as I go, Ireallydon'tlikeScott, M/M, Scott is a Bad Friend, Scott still sucks, Teen Wolf BigBads till I feel like stopping, badfriend!Scott
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2019-05-28
Packaged: 2019-07-29 05:12:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 38,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16257353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herlilacskies/pseuds/Herlilacskies
Summary: Stiles gets bit. Stiles and Derek are Mates. What a surprise. Ally and Stiles are Besties. Just Teen Wolf with Werewolf!Stiles.





	1. Chapter One: The beginning

**Author's Note:**

> It's just Werewolf Stiles. I wouldn't say that it's not canon-compliant, but it's not exactly canon-compliant. It has the gist of Teen Wolf just Stiles. I always thought Stiles was the main character, for a good chunk of the entirety of the show. Honestly.  
> I wanted a slow-build. And it did not go that way. The build is fast. I don't like it, but...I did it.  
> Also this is extremely un-beta'd. Just saying.  
> And I'm so sorry the first chapter is this long, but...it happened.

When stiles heard that there was a body found in the preserve—well, half a body found—he was so excited, he wanted to find the body, satisfy his morbid curiosity. He had a second thought of what if his father caught him, but said fuck it, left his clothes on from the same day and grabbed his keys heading for Scott’s house.    
Getting Scott to come was pretty easy, mostly. Except for the fact that Stiles nearly died. Totally, completely, and absolutely not an exaggeration. Still, Scott was relatively easy to pressure into risky things. This should be quick; easy.   
He’d been distant lately. Stiles knows Scott’s been really trying to get better at Lacrosse, he knows, okay? He knows, but he can barely count the hangouts they’ve had all summer on his hands. So he needs to do this, one last hoorah before everything changes. That’s the itch Stiles has had since Scott’s first ‘Sorry can’t, training’ he’d sent Stiles. At first it was fine, he was  _ fine _ , but then he started thinking, knowing with a resigned knowledge that it wasn’t gonna be the same when school started.    
More defining of their withering friendship was when Stiles was finally upright and not dangling by his feet, he’d remembered the once fond exasperation now replaced with humorless annoyance at his presence.   
In a hostile tone Scott grinds out things about sleep and Lacrosse and school. Stiles barely registers any of it as he spills the juicy details once the Latinos mouth has ceased movement.   
Admittedly, it was a little harder to get Scott to go. The whole car trip there he was just complaining and whining, Stiles honestly regrets bringing him, he doesn’t even know why Scott even bothered coming if it was gonna be such a detrimental—to his Lacrosse dream—adventure.   
Even as they’re exiting the Jeep and heading to the start of trees, he’s still whining, more in fear now, probably the fact that the possible killer is still out roaming the woods, but who knows? As they get deeper into the woods every snapped little twig has Scott freaking out, his eyes wide as saucers as he opens his mouth in a sure to be trembling voice with short deep breaths, but is cut off before a peep leaves his throat by Stiles humored and wistful “Inhaler, Scotty.” Accompanied by an exasperated roll of his eyes and shake of his head.   
Scott’s eyes go even wider somehow and goes to grab his inhaler, then freezes.   
After a few moments of silence, it becomes unnerving, Stiles turns back to glance at Scott, his eyes wide in shock and trained on his pocket. Stiles mouth opens in utter panic and disbelief as he starts to say “Scot—“ but is cut off by Scott’s own words of terrified panic and disbelief “It’s gone.” His hands shaking in panic and his breaths becoming shorter and deeper.   
Stiles asks “Did you put it in your other pocket? Scott, it has to be in your other one.” He ends in a plead, praying to any deities out there that Scott just misplaced his inhaler.   
Scott pats all around his person, his heart rate skyrocketing as he comes up empty handed. Scott drops to his knees with one hand on the ground the other on his chest, he’s just trying to breathe, then there’s bright lights and barking.    
Stiles sees Scott go down, he’s halfway across the few feet between them when he hears the canine unit, milliseconds later there’s bright lights. Stiles decides Scott will get more help from the cops than himself, he darts behind a tree and prays Scott doesn’t give him up.    
The Sheriff realizes who’s on the ground, once he gets closer he realizes why. He takes advantage of the situation and before he calls over the deputy with asthma he takes advantage of Scott’s disarray and begins asking questions in a gruff tone “Where’s Stiles?” After a panicked yet decisive shake of the asthmatics head—he doesn’t believe—he continues “Did yo—“ he turns with a harsh glare at the deputy interrupting him.   
The asthmatic deputy interrupts the Sheriff’s highly conventional and quite unethical questioning with a “Sir, the boy’s going to die.” With a glare of his own, while handing Scott the dire object of vitality.   
Scott looks up at the deputy with such gratefulness that the deputy inches back in discomfort at the puppy dog eyes, then Scott says “You saved my life.” With a childlike awe in his voice.   
Scott hands the deputy back his inhaler as the deputy shakes his head and says “Anyone would have done it.” Then looks to the Sheriff and corrects “Most people.” Sending a harsh glare to the Sheriff, then a calm smile to the teen still on the ground.   
“Come on kid.” The deputy says helping the teen up, then bringing him back to where most deputies have remained in wait of orders.    
The Sheriff walks over to the deputies and calls “I'm taking this one home.” In an annoyed voice, then he turns to the darker part of the forest and yells “Stiles! You out there?” His voice laced with fake concern as his brows pinch in annoyance.   
Stiles heard almost everything, he nearly revealed himself just so the Sheriff would stop pestering Scott and give him a damn inhaler, but then he hears his name and he freezes. He doesn’t know what would happen if Scott ratted him out. He knows he won’t get home before him, he needs to leave now if he wants even a slight chance, or else he may be nursing a few sore spots through school tomorrow. Then Scott’s breathing and Stiles lets out a breath of relief as he sinks back against the tree. Then he hears “Stiles!” and he stills, his blood running cold at the false worriedness in the Sheriff’s voice. After finally taking a breath he registers the last part “You out there?” He doesn’t know, Stiles tilts his head up with eyes shut tight as he says  _ thank fuck  _ in his head.   
The Sheriff huffs in annoyance and turns shaking his head as he barks out an order of “Keep going!” Then turns, grabbing Scott and trudges on his way as the dogs and lights go another.   
Once the bright lights and barks have faded out Stiles gives himself a few seconds to flip out about Scott nearly dying, but he isn’t really phased he finds and just shrugs, internally saying  _ he didn’t actually die _ , then standing up and wiping his butt off, then his hands.   
He soon registers it’s pitch black and silent as he’s walking, he can’t really see where he’s going. But, it shouldn’t be silent he realizes as he stops. He reaches into his pocket for his phone. He hears something and boom! Deer. Everywhere. He almost dies.    
Now he’s in a heap on the ground, as he sits up he reaches for his phone, hoping it hadn’t fallen out, exhaling “Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepleasepl—Shit.” His phone fell out. He mutters out any and all expletives in his vocabulary as he gets on his knees and feels around the ground for it, he doesn’t even care that he’s probably touching all kinds of bugs in his panicked search. His right pinky grazes something soft? Hard? It’s not like plastic, and it’s not like a leaf, he observes. Then his hands on it and yeah, it’s bone—holy shit—spine? Well, some of it is, but most of his hand is on the intestines. The bloody, squishy—with a ghostly remainder of the abundant warmth it once held—guts. Okay. He found the body. Cool, cool, very cool, he thinks to himself. Okay. This is not okay. His fingerprints are on it, but it’s mostly bloody, it’s fine. Okay the blood is kinda dry so his prints are probably on there. Shit. He needs to leave. Now. Why hasn’t he removed his hand? This is so violating, to whomever he’s touching. A ray of moonlight finally escaping the clouds illuminates the clearing Stiles has tumbled into, giving him a clear view of the woman, the young woman, who looks somewhat familiar, this is  _ super _ violating.   
After finally removing his hand he sits back on his knees and starts to rub his hands on his jeans, to get rid of the sticky bloodiness. Ewwww. He starts to say “I need t—“ but is cut off by growling from somewhere behind him, he prays to any deities that it’s not a dog from the canine unit. The Sheriff would kill him. It’s a very real possibility at the moment.   
Stiles blows out a panicked breath and turns to look over his shoulder at the—hopefully—wild animal. He can’t see anything, then the growling intensifies and he can see two glowing red eyes. He turns his head back and says “Okay.” Then adds “I’m going to die.” With a finality. Then there’s more growling, pain, and now he’s running—hopefully towards his Jeep.   
Next thing he knows he’s wet and just nearly got hit by a sleek, black Camaro, his eyes track the Camaro as it slows, then he's booking it in the direction he thinks the Jeep is.   
As he nears a clearing with hope blossoming he sees a blue tint and he’s joyous as he somehow speeds up and then he’s jumping in and on the road in seconds. As he’s speeding down a dirt road his eyebrows pinch in confusion saying “Wait.” Then stating “It’s raining.” His voice tinged in slight awe and complete relief as he says “It’ll wash away any prints. Sucks for the cops and shit, but.” The last sentence ended with a shrug, then he’s focusing on getting warmer and getting home quicker.   
He rounds a corner and sees his house come into view. And the police cruiser in the driveway. Shit.    
“Fuuuuuuuck. Shitfuckshitfuck. Shit. Fuuuuck..” He mutters to himself as he pulls into the driveway, then adds as he gets out and shuts the door “I’m going to die.” His heart racing.   
As he stares at the house he blows out a resigned breath of air in acceptance as he starts his trek into the house. He’d rather face his wrath straight up, than stave it off, it’s so much worse that way. Trust him.    
He hesitantly opens the door, it’s pitch black, not even the stove light is on, the darkness doesn’t disavow his previous statement. The Sheriff wants Stiles on edge, this isn’t good. Instead of letting the Sheriff mess with him he “innocently” turns the light on.   
The Sheriff is on the couch in front of the windows grimacing with thinned eyes and a harsh glare.   
After the initial shock of bright lights after complete darkness the Sheriff blinks a few times adjusting his eyes and sits straighter with both arms spread across the back of the couch as if he has no care in the world. After a few more unnerving seconds of tense silence he says “Where were you, _ Stiles _ ?” Growling the last word in disgust.   
Stiles with his back to the door in fear and eyes locked on the man with a withering glare says “You know where I was.” The Sheriff lets out a humorous laugh.   
The Sheriff’s laughter now becoming small huffs as he says “I do.” With incredulous eyes, tinged with anger. He growls out “Sit.” Breaking the tense eye contact to glance at the armchair that’s in front of the window on the side side of the door.   
Stiles hesitantly walks over to the chair, his feet squelching along with his wet—yet slightly stiff in some areas—attire. Stiles sits in the chair, he leans forward to put his elbows and forearms on his thighs—where the blood is just a dark stain—but owwwwww. That’s not right, he thinks as he shoots straight up at the pain. With a wince on his face he mutters under his breath “What the fuck happe—“ Oh. Okay. This is okay. This is so not okay. How much does a rabies vaccine cost? Then adds “Fuuuuuuuuck.” In frustration. Wh—His thoughts are cut off by an annoyed and angered growl from the Sheriff.   
“What the hell are you mumbling, boy? Speak up.” The Sheriff growls out with a scowl hanging on his features.   
Stiles head shoots up with wide, doe-like eyes and puts his right hand over the bite? In defense. Then he reels in his emotions and his face becomes neutral so quick it’s almost comical. Almost.   
Stiles says “It was really, you know...” he searches for the right word and settles with “Smart. To withhold an inhaler from a boy having an asthma attack. But.” He says glancing at the glare in the sheriffs face with his light and airy voice and continues “It was really quite nurturing. If you think about it. You were just preparing him for the real world, where people don’t help people in dire need.” He sends a viscous glare and continues with a huff of laughter, only slightly wincing at the pulling it does on the bite “I should be applauding you.” His voice dripping sarcasm.   
In seconds the Sheriffs in Stiles face, gripping his shirt, spit flying everywhere as he snarls “You think you’re being funny.” Then he stands back up with a huff of laughter as he steps back towards the T.V. saying “Get up.” With a smile on his face.   
That’s the thing he hates about himself the most. His ability to pick and choose which emotions show, but sometimes it’ll become void in  _ other  _ situations. Just like the Sheriff. But it does come in handy. Until he’s overpowered with terror.

Stiles’ calm, unaffected mask has been replaced by a terror stricken visage, as he gets up awkwardly, then steps to where he’s a few steps from the door. The Sheriff sees his placement and laughs saying “Don’t do anything stupid now, son.” Then he walks over and wraps his arm around Stiles shoulders. Stiles, unable to shrug off the unwanted touching hunches his shoulders, he feels disgusting and violated at the Sheriff’s unwanted touch. Stiles glares at the Sheriff as he pulls him closer asking “Do you like getting…” He falsely searches for a word “abused?” Then laughs and says “I mean, you must with all the shit you pull.” Then a viscous smirk crawls on his face.   
Before Stiles can even blink, he’s on the floor, on his ass scooting back against the wall next to the door, sucking in lungfuls and whimpering at the pain, while his hands are on the bite mark. Where the Sheriff just punched him. He’s going to die. It hurts so bad. Why does he continue to do stupid shit if this is what happens? Honestly, can’t he keep his mouth shut for a minute? He doesn’t know, maybe he subconsciously thinks he deserves it. For killing his mom, but who knows?   
The Sheriff looks down at his terrified son and says “See what you’re making me do?” He ends it with a huff of laughter as he heads to Stiles’ left, for the door. As he shuts the door he flips the light switch on the wall, turning off all the lights Stiles had turned on.   
Stiles slides to his side on the floor—slightly wheezing—and then completely lays on his back as he rests his hands on the wound. Oh shit. Is it bleeding? It feels sticky down there. Stiles does not want to move. He hurts. Like everywhere.   
He blows out a pained breath as he prepares himself to at least sit up. Wincing and muttering expletives is the only way he sits up, then he’s just thinking about the stairs. Yepe, he thinks. He’s gonna crawl up the stairs, he shrugs. Then immediately winces in pain and wonders what his life’s become. He’s just a punching bag to his dad.   
After sucking it up and standing, he slowly makes his way up the stairs, barely avoiding the creaky steps out of habit, seeing as it’s pitch black he’s applauding himself—in his head. Once he’s completely on the second floor, he pumps his fist, only slightly wincing. His joy is evaporated by the ghostly creaking down the hall to his left. This house is going to to give him a heart attack one of these days. Then he’s stiltedly walking as quick as he can to his room and quietly closing the door behind him.    
He sighs in relief and sits on his bed. Ow. He needs to stop moving. He gets up and goes to the bathroom to look at the bite. He turns on the light, he shrugs out of his button up and jacket, then peels off his  _ Beatles _ t-shirt that’s stuck to his front, wincing the entire time—out of sadness of his ruined shirt, but mostly pain.   
Okay. Some wild animal fucking bit him. Fuck. He really hopes he doesn’t get rabies. Like really  _ really _ hopes. He glares at the bite and hysterically thinks  _ werewolf _ . Fucking animals man. Honestly, he doesn't want rabies. He grabs a hand towel off the rack next to the sink. It’s white. Of course it’s white. He gets it wet with warm water and slightly dabs at it and okay. This is so painful.    
He looks at the bite again and sees that it’s mostly dried blood, he’s so not taking a shower, so instead of dabbing at it lightly, he wads up the cloth. He sucks in a breath and just scrubs over it “lightly”. It so wasn’t lightly. Then he runs to his drawer and grabs a hopefully black t-shirt and presses it to the bloodiness. Okay. Bed time!   
He holds the shirt to his side with one hand while the other one is pulling at his jeans, after he kicked off his shoes. It doesn’t work well. He ends up laying on his bed with his legs dangling off as he uses both hands to take his jeans and boxers off. Then his socks. Jesus Christ. Why is he wearing so many clothes?   
After finally taking his socks off, he carefully sits up, pressing the shirt to the bite still. He looks down at himself. Ugh. Then in a moment of paranoia he turns his head so quick—he thinks he heard a crack—to check and make sure the blinds and curtain are closed. Oh thank fuck it is. After the initial panic dissipates, Stiles carefully gets up and walks over to his dresser and grabs some boxers. Once Stiles has them on, he moves the shirt, it’s not really bleeding. Eh. He throws the bloodied tee in the bathroom with his soppy jacket and grabs a blue tee and pulls it over his head, only slightly wincing.    
Stiles heads to bed, he really hopes there’s not a blood stain on his sheets, he just washed them like a week ago. Maybe. And he really hopes that he doesn’t get rabies. His dad would totally shoot him, given the opportunity, Stiles is like...93.8787879% sure. To be exact.   
—•_•—   
Stiles blaring alarm is what wakes him.   
He reaches over and grabs his alarm hurling it across the room, then pulls the covers over his head whining “Whyyyyyyy.” Then throwing the covers off, throws his legs off the bed and sits up. He blows out a breath and states “Well, today's gonna suck.” As his eyes land on the alarm now in pieces. Wow. He needs a chill pill. Jesus. Then his eyes wonder and land on  his stiff pile of clothes in the bathroom. Oh. Yeah. The preserve. The bite. The abusive father. Scott almost dying. That was fun.   
Then his head shoots down to the small blood stain on his shirt. It doesn’t even hurt. Shouldn’t it hurt? He should be in pain. Why isn’t he in pain? He lifts the shirt and sees a little cakey, dry blood, then pokes at it. Well...this is odd. He lets his shirt fall down after a few “cautious” pokes. They were not cautious. He feels fine, physically. Emotional is a whole other story. Like, entirely different universe, ‘other story’.    
Stiles shrugs and goes to the bathroom to finally take a shower. Once he’s in there, he turns on the shower and starts stripping, but before he takes off his boxers, he looks in the mirror. There isn’t much blood, so he probably didn’t stain his sheets. Victory! Then he pulls off the boxers and steps behind the curtain.    
Hot. Pain.  _ Hot _ . He quickly turns the cold knob on slightly, while batting at the water like it will cool quicker. It doesn’t.   
Once it does cool he washes his hair, cautious not to get any soap on the bite. Then he grabs a washcloth, puts it under the spray of warm water then he winces in anticipation for the pain to come as he goes to roughly scrub the blood off. It doesn’t hurt. Nothing hurts. That isn’t right, he looks down and there’s nothing. His whole front is absolutely spotless—except for the moles he got from his mother, those he cherishes, deeply. He’s...shocked? Confused? Astounded? Joyous? What the hell's going on? He looks at the washcloth and yeah. There’s blood on it.    
So, what? He just healed overnight? What the fuck is going on here? You know what? He’s probably just fucking seeing things. He’s imagining things. Yepe. Your friendly neighborhood schizo. You better watch out kids. He’s such a fucking freak.  _ God _ . Can’t he catch a break?   
He washes the rest of himself and gets ready for school.   
—•_•—   
As he parks he sees Scott’s bike. When he’s walking up to the entrance, Scott is nowhere in sight. No surprise. What did he expect? What did he  _ reasonably  _ expect? Scott’s changed. Stiles, Stiles hasn’t. Stiles is Stiles, there’s no changing.    
Maybe that’s what happens to the people around him. They grow cold. And it hurts. The absence they leave. When Stiles is alone, and it’s so quiet. It’s so fucking quiet. That’s when he’ll cry, everyone gone and uncaring. The quiet is where the thoughts invade. When there’s a persistent itch, a voice whispering thoughts of self mutilation and death, and atrocious things he doesn’t want anything to do with. But it’s there. Always. Even when it’s not quiet. It’s an itch in the back of his mind, festering. Waiting for silence.   
A phone ringing brings him out of his thoughts as he takes a seat behind Scott out of habit.   
_ Someone’s gonna get yelled at  _ he sings to himself while scanning the room. No one even lifts their heads from their desks or conversation, not even the teacher.   
Then he hears a girl answer it and okay. This is weird. He can see a girl on the phone outside talking to her mom out the window. She forgot a pen. What the  _ actual  _ fuck is going on here?    
Now some dude—probably—hopefully a school administrator—is bringing her in and Stiles is listening to the whole conversation as they’re walking through the school, then into his class and she’s sitting next to him. Her name is Allison. She kinda smells good, but there’s a bitter hint of something he can’t place, but she seems nice.   
He stares in disbelief at her, then remembers that she doesn’t have anything to write with and grabs a pen from his bag and nudges her shoulder. She turns to him with pinched brows, then a beaming smiles as she takes the pen and says “Thank you. So much…”   
“Oh, Stiles.” At the confusion on her face he adds “My name. It’s Stiles.”   
“Oh. That’s actually kinda cool.”   
“No, no.” Stiles corrects “It’s  _ tubular _ , dude.” He punctuates with a wink and waggling eyebrows.   
Allison laughs. She honestly and wholeheartedly laughed. Stiles doesn’t even think Scott would have laughed.   
She smiles and says “You’re funny.” Then she leans over and more quietly as she surveys the room, watching the students idly chatter as they do the warm up she says “Also. You should let me be be your friend, because I know  _ no one  _ here.”   
Stiles is...astonished. He’s never really had a friend, aside from Scott. But Scott isn’t really in the picture these days, he’s totally on the market.   
“Yeah. Definitely.” Then adds as an afterthought “Just saying, but I’m like so far from popular. So...if you want popularity, I’m not the guy.”   
Allison laughs. Again. Is he actually funny, he likes to think he is, but Scott was usually annoyed.   
Allison stops laughing and says “You were serious?”    
Stiles nods as he says “Yepe.” Popping the p.

Allison shakes her head vehemently as she rushes out “No, no, no. I’m not like that. I’m so far from popular. I'm usually seen as the quiet shy type. I’m actually surprised I’m talking right now. Sometimes when I start talking, I just can’t stop and it’s so an—“ with a frustrated huff of breath she says “So. No I’m not looking for popularity.”   
Stiles smiles at Allison’s adorableness, in a totally platonic way and says “Good, cause’ I’m totally on the market.” Then quickly adds “In a completely platonic way.”   
Allison smiles and says “I really like you.” Then rushes with wide eyes “In a platonic way.”   
Stiles smiles and says “So we definitely like each other a lot. Platonically. That’s the best start to a friendship.”   
Then a thought occurs and he blurts “Wait! What would platonically fucking be?”   
Allison covers her mouth to stifle her laugh as a few heads turn their way.   
Stiles faces the board as he sinks in his seat.   
Stiles turns to look at Allison and she’s silently laughing, once she sees Stiles she mouths platonically fucking, then she’s silently laughing even harder and wiping at tears. Stiles smiles, thinking of what their blossoming friendship could become.   
After Allison sobers up she’s saying “You are literally the funniest person I know. I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time.”   
“Well, I’m sorry to say, but, you’re gonna have to get used to it, if we’re gonna be besties.”   
Allison’s laughing.   
That’s how most of the hour goes. Just making eye contact sends them snickering to themselves about absolutely nothing. Stiles found out they have every class together, she has some honors and AP classes, same as him.   
—•_•—   
After their second hour Stiles points out to her where her locker is and says “I’ll get my stuff and then we’ll head to lunch?”   
Allison nods and says “Yeah, yeah. I just gotta put some things in.”   
As there parting ways Stiles says “Hey remember: push, then turn.” With a thumbs up. Allison smiles and with a nod of thanks turns in the direction of her locker.   
As Stiles fiddles with his locker his mind goes to his ex-best friend, he hasn’t even acknowledged his existence—aside from the looks he was getting in first hour. Maybe Scott’s into Allison. He would die if that happened. Just as appalling thoughts start to intrude, he hears Lydia talking to Allison.   
Welp, so much for a new friend, just his luck, he thinks bitterly to himself. Feeling stupid for thinking anyone would want to be friends with him, he still listens in on the conversation though.   
Lydia’s complimenting her and saying they should be friends, then he’s thinking about the red head. He realizes that he doesn’t even care about her really, he hasn’t thought about her in over a year—like  _ that _ —he thinks about his infatuation with her. He didn’t love her. It was an infatuation with the beauty and intelligence.   
Then Lydia’s telling her that she’s sitting with her and Jackson at lunch. Well, guess it’s table for o— his thoughts are cut off as he catches what Allison asks. He can picture her biting her lip in nervous anticipation.   
“Can Stiles sit with us too?”   
Stiles doesn’t even think Scott would have even thought of him if the popular kids cornered him.   
“Um…” Lydia gives Jackass a look “Stiles?”   
Allison straightens up more in confidence and says “Yes. Stiles.” Stiles smiles. That’s what loyalty is.   
Lydia looks to Jackass then back to Allison “Actually,” she says in false pity “There’s only one open seat.”   
“Well, I guess I can’t sit at your table then.” She finishes with a glare, then adds with a smile and too cheerful voice “But, I’m sure you could sit at our table. Stiles seems like an open,  _ friendly  _ person.”   
Stiles here’s Jackass mutter something under his breath and he scowls at his assholery.    
Lydia purses her lips as she has a conversation with her eyes between herself and Jackass as Allison turns to leave, but stops at Lydia’s wincing “Wait.”   
Allison turns with raised eyebrows.   
Lydia rolls her eyes and grudgingly says “I guess we could fit one other person at the table.”   
Allison smiles and says “Okay! I’ll go get Stiles and we can go.”   
Stiles smiles as he closes his locker and turns to Allison’s beaming smile.   
“Hi.”   
Allison smiles nervously at Stiles and says “This girl asked me to sit with her and her boyfriend—I think—at lunch. I was like ‘only if Stiles can’ and she said ‘okay’. Is that okay? Her names Lydia.”   
Stiles beams at her and says “Of course,  _ best friend _ .” He says the last two words with waggling eyebrows and then they’re both laughing.   
Allison wipes a tear and grabs Stiles’ arm dragging him towards her locker as she says “Come on. They’re waiting for us.”   
—•_•—   
Lunch is...interesting. To say the least. Allison seems to be getting along with Lydia and whenever there’s a break in their conversation she’ll turn back to Stiles and seconds in she’ll be laughing at something, then he starts. Even when she turns back to Lydia, Stiles isn’t completely forgotten. Danny’s on his other side, it’s mostly about Lacrosse, but...at least he’s not sitting there in silence watching everyone else around him.   
like the last few years with Scott. Stiles is about to shove some sweet potato fries in his mouth when he hears Lydia say “So, you’re going shopping with me and Jackass after school.”   
Allison has a baby carrot halfway to her mouth when she registers what Lydia just said. She turns to the girl and says “Sorry.” With a shrug and continues “I’m hanging out with Stiles after school.”   
Stiles hears the whole thing and is prepared when the dark haired beauty turns to him with pleading eyes as she says “Right, Stiles?”   
Stiles nods and says “Yeah. She’s gonna cheer me on in the bleachers at practice and then we’re going to mine.”   
Allison mouths thank you, with an awe in her expression at his readied answer, then turns to Lydia with a sympathetic smile and a shrug of “You heard him.” Then adds “Maybe another day.”   
Lydia bristles at the thought of Allison lying to her, but quickly cuts that off with a smile as she says “No problem, give me your phone.”   
Allison side glances at Stiles then grudgingly grabs her phone from her backpack and hands it to Lydia.   
Thankfully Lydia doesn’t share the next class with them, so they part ways.   
Allison loops her arm in Stiles’ as they head to their next class. Stiles says “You know you’re coming home with me, right?”   
Allison sighs pitifully as she says “I know.” Then adds “She doesn’t seem like someone who takes rejection well.”   
Stiles self consciously says “You know, I used to like her.”    
Allison’s eyes are wide as she says “Really?”   
Stiles nods and says “Yup. I thought I loved her.” Then adds sheepishly “It was more of an obsession. Definitely not love. Infatuation with her intelligence and beauty.” Then adds thoughtfully “I guess the self entitled and conceitedness just didn’t really register because she was this  _ goddess _ to me.”   
Then he turns to Allison with a smirk on his face, and says “You’re the only goddess I need in my life.”   
Allison beams as she sits on the left side of the table and Stiles settles in next to her.   
After they start taking out binders and such Allison huffs a laugh and says “I was thinking the exact same thing.”   
At Stiles pinched brows she adds “Conceited.” Then adds “Just...the way she was, it irked me. Like...I don’t know. Like I was...an object. I didn’t have a say. The way she phrased things. Like ‘you’re doing this or that’. ‘You’re sitting at lunch with us’ and ‘You’re going shopping with us.’ The stuff we talked about...I mean the conversations weren’t meaningful, shopping, clothes, fashion, makeup.” Then looks at Stiles and blurts “Oh! Thank you so much again for the ‘she’s coming home with me’, that was amazing. You are amazing.”   
Stiles analyzes everything she’s said and smiles and says “No problemo, muchacha.” Then after a giggle from Allison adds in thought “But, I think that’s the way she is. I mean, she’s like super smart.” After a snigger from Allison he says “No really. She just acts like a stupid blonde in front of Jackass. All her classes are AP and Honors. The stupidity is just a mask. I honestly don’t know why.” Then adds as an afterthought “Maybe that’s what drew me in.” With a playful nudge to Allison’s shoulder.   
Allison nods with a thoughtful expression then asks in horror “Are you still in love with her?”   
Stiles laughs then sees Allison’s face and laughs even more, after his laughs turn to huffs he says “Infatuation Allison, not love.” Then adds “I’m over it.” With a doubtful look from Allison he states “I am. It just...it makes me sad. That she holds back, that she dumbs herself down for Jackass.” After a huff of laughter from Allison Stiles says “What? She’s so smart.”   
Allison smiles and says “No, no. It’s not that. It’s just. You know you always say ‘Jackass’ for Jackass.”   
“Yeah.” Stiles says slowly and nods with pinched eyebrows “Jackass.”   
Allison smothers a laugh and says “Yeah, but why?”   
Stiles brows pinch and he shrugs stating “He’s an asshole. When someone says ‘Jackson’ I hear Jackass.”   
Allison doesn’t try to smother this laugh.   
—•_•—   
As they’re on their way to practice Allison says “No, but seriously. We should think of something to be defined as platonically fucking, that’s like...friendly and platonic. So that we can be like, ‘yo, I’m gonna go platonically fuck my friend’.”   
Stiles laughs and says “Yeeeeeeeessssssss. You are are amazing. After practice, my house. We’ll figure something out. That—you’re amazing. I love you. Platonically!”   
“Are you sure it’s not just platonic infatuation?” She punctuates by waggling her eyebrows.   
Stiles playfully pushes her accusingly saying “I knew I shouldn’t have told you!”    
Allison says “No! I loooooooove you. You’re my best friend.” Then dead seriously “We have to tell each other our deepest and  _ darkest  _ secrets.”   
“Yes, yes, young Padawan. We will get there. You must have patience.”   
Then they’re both erupting in raucous laughter as they round the corner and see Lydia impatiently waiting for them by the locker room doors.   
They sober up quickly as they approach the red head.   
Stiles says—only slightly playfully “Prepare for battle.” Then quickly adds “My beautiful goddess.”   
Allison pushes him.

He nearly dies.

Lydia is  _ not _ impressed.

—•_•—   
Stiles grabs a locker nearest to the door that leads outside and gets changed.   
Once on the field he looks to the bleachers and sure enough there’s Allison and Lydia. Allison sees Stiles and yells “Woo! Go Stiles! You got this!”   
Stiles smiles and waves, then hears Lydia murmur something under her breath “She’s  _ so _ gone on him.”   
No. Noooo. He couldn’t think of Allison that way. No. Weird. Just so, so wrong. Allison’s awesome, but not his type.   
He turns back to the field and gets in line.   
Scott’s ahead of him. He’s...decent? It wasn’t as bad as last year, but it wasn’t like, holy shit, Scott McCall is awesome. It’s more like, oh, good for him, he’s trying.   
When Stiles shoots, something strange happens. His ball goes straight through the net, and his eyesight went a little wack when he was concentrating. Weird. Schizo, remember. He’s such a weirdo. He kinda/sorta feels bad for Allison in the friendship business. She lucked out.   
Well, he’s definitely on the team now.   
After the tryout/practice Stiles was on the team and of course Jackass, and Scott, but so was Greenberg. So...yeah.   
As Stiles is heading for the showers Allison is coming down the bleachers beaming and yelling “Stiles!” Over and over again until she’s an arms length away. Then she’s smiling and pulling him into a hug.   
“Allison. I’m all sweaty and stinky.” Stiles deadpans.

“Yeah. I know that. Now.” Then adds “Good to know for next time.” Finally letting go, with a sticky pat to the back.

“Okay. I’m gonna shower, then we can get out of here.” Then he adds in a suggestive tone “And platonically fuck.” With waggling eyebrows.   
Allison shoves him and says “Shower. Now. You stink.” Then as Stiles is nearly to the door she shouts “And I’m proud of you! You were awesome!”   
As Stiles heads into the locker room he thinks about Allison, she’s so nice, and supportive. He doesn’t remember the last time he made someone laugh so hard so quick, or the last time someone hugged him, or even said they were proud of him. Today has been...great. He hasn’t even had any bad thoughts throughout the day. Except the ones about Scott and Allison. He visibly shudders. He waits till most of the guys have left and then takes a shower. He has self esteem issues. Deal with it.   
Stiles heads out into the field. Allison isn’t out there. She didn’t leave with Lydia did she? Then he hears Allison’s nervous giggles. Along with Scott’s voice and he sees red. Allison is pushed up against his Jeep.  _ His Jeep _ !   
“...ew?”   
“Scott!” A glare, directed at his former best friend.   
Scott turns with a smile on his face like he hasn’t been ignoring Stiles all summer as he says “Hey, Stiles. I was j—“   
Scott is cut off by an animalistic growl from Stiles “Get. The  _ fuck _ . Out of here. Now.”   
Allison ducks under Scott’s arm and goes to Stiles side—again, definition of loyalty everybody—and says “Who is he?” with so much confusion, that it's almost laughable. Almost.   
“H—“   
Scott interjects with “I’m his best friend.”   
Stiles growls out “Ex-best friend.”   
Scott’s brows pinch and goes to say something but is cut off by Stiles cold “Scott? Are you serious? We haven’t been friends for a while now. Even before you started ignoring me, I knew. I mean,” he lets out a bitter huff of laughter “you haven’t even acknowledged my existence all day. And you sat in front of me in first hour.”   
“What about last night?”   
“Last night?” He laughs “Last night? You didn’t even wanna go. You were complaining the entire time!”   
“Well…” he struggles for something and settles with “you left me to die in the woods!” He punctuates with an accusatory finger pointed in his direction.   
Stiles rolls his eyes and says “You didn’t die. Any ways, what was I gonna do? I didn’t have an inhaler and I knew that deputy had one. The cops wouldn’t let you die.” Then reconsiders “Most won’t.”   
“And first hour is when Alison came in. So don’t pretend like you didn’t know who she was. I mean we were laughing the entire hour. And you kept looking at her like a creep.”   
Scott looks pissed—and embarrassed, but before he can say something stupid, Stiles says in a dejectedly commanding tone “Just—Just leave Scott.” Then when it looked like Scott was going to say something he adds in a plea “Please, Scott. For me?”   
Scott looks guilty for all of a second before he’s storming off with a horrible stench in his wake, making Stiles sneeze. He needs a shower.   
Stiles turns to Allison with a sympathetic smile as he says “Sorry.” The same moment Allison rushes out “I’m so sorry.”   
Allison says “I’m sorry, he said he knew who you were.” She blushes as she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and looks down in shame as she mutters “And he was kinda cute.” Embarrassment and shame heavy in the air, mixing with the slowly dissipating anger and slight tinge of confusion.   
Stiles coos at Allison’s adorableness and says “No, no. It wasn’t your fault. It was a long time coming.” He sighs and adds “And it came in front of you.”   
Allison stares at him and then starts snickering.   
Stiles’ brows start to pinch in confusion, then shouts with a roll of his eyes “Get in the damn car Allison.”   
As Stiles turns out of the school parking lot into the road Allison breaks the comfortable silence “What happened to you guys last night?”   
Stiles glances at her, then back to the road and sighs “Nothing good.” Then adds with a huff of bitter laughter “I mean it’s the preserve. When does anything good happen there.”   
“What’s that?” Then she adds in clarification “The preserve I mean.”   
Stiles eyebrows pinch in confusion then shrugs and says “Well...it’s basically just the woods around Beacon Hills. I guess.”   
“Oh.” Allison then adds “What does the preserve have to do with you guys’...incident?”   
Stiles grip on the wheel tightens and loosens as he breathes out “Everything.”   
“That’s not vague at all.”

Stiles side glances at her and sighs gently “I’ll tell you everything, just…” He fades out and glances out the windshield then to Allison and back to the road, heading in the direction of the preserve.

—•_•—   
Stiles parks just about where he was the night before, except this time it’s not a begrudging Scott, but a curious and wonderful Allison.   
Stiles gets out and rests against the Jeep, waiting for Allison. Once Allison settles next to him they both stare off into the woods resting in the comfortable silence.   
Stiles turns to Allison and opens his mouth and closes it a few times, then just heads into the woods, he thinks the opening they took last night, he’s pretty sure. After a few frantic seconds of contemplation he blurts out in a rush “There was a body, no half, there was half a body. And Scott was being a douche and complaining. And he lost his inha—“   
“Breathe, Stiles. Jesus, slow down.” Then she adds “Okay. Start from the very beginning. Slowly.”   
Stiles breathes. In. Out.   
“So.” He says, bringing a hand to the back of his neck self-consciously “I’m the Sheriff’s kid. And I may or may not have stolen certain devices from said Sheriff’s station. And last night I may or may not have been listening to the radio. So I may or ma—“   
“Stiles.”   
Stiles brings his hand back down in surrender and says “Fine, fine.” He rests his hands at his sides and continues with a sheepish smile “So I definitely was listening to the police scanner. And I heard there was a body found in the preserve.” Then corrects “Half a body.”   
Allison nods along with curious eyes.   
Stiles continues “So I thought of Scotty, you know, one last hoorah.” He looks down wistfully then back up and continues “It went. I don’t even know why he bothered, honestly.” He punctuates it with a shrug and fills Allison in up to the part where the Sheriff is screwing with Scott, and they’re basically at the spot, where he thinks the body was.   
“I swear I almost revealed myself. And that would have put me in mortal peril as well.”   
“But he’s your dad. What’s the worst he could do?”   
Stiles stiffens and bristles at that comment. Allison tucks that away for later.   
He regains his composure and lets out a laugh that’s a bit too hysterical to be anything other than a distraction as he says “Well, you know me. Exaggerating. Literally, all my thoughts are hyperboles.” Allison spots a fallen tree that looks sturdy enough and drags Stiles over so they can sit.

“So...why are we here in the first place? Why come back?”

“Oh! Yeah, I dropped my phone. And I’m pretty sure Scott lost his inhaler somewhere in these woods. So...yeah.” Then mumbles “And I may or may not have found the body. And touched it. And got bitten by a wild animal.”

Allison hits him upside the head and whisper shouts “Stiles what the hell!” Then she’s grabbing at his clothes demanding “Where? Where? Are you okay? Does it hurt? Did you se—“

“Allison!” Stiles shouts in exasperation.

Allison’s frantic movements stop. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no. It’s just there’s nothing to see. Like at all. I woke up and it didn’t hurt. It like...healed overnight. And I have the bloody clothes if you don’t believe me.”

Allison nods along to his words and says with inquisitive eyes “I believe you. It’s just...strange.”

Stiles starts to hear a strange thumping. And something smells absolutely wonderful, a bitter dark chocolate, and oak, maybe a hint of mint, maybe some...orange...zest? And so much more. It’s...incredible. He just…wants…to...roll? In it. The scent. It’s unlike anything he’s ever smelled. It’s...fuck. It’s so  _ good _ .

“But you found the body? That must have been cool.”

Stiles—somewhat—comes out of his thoughts and grabs Allison’s wrist in a vice grip, hauling her up to stand, his eyes roaming the surrounding woods, then landing back on her, his visage panicked; in utter disarray.

“Stiles! What th—“

“Allison!” He pleads “Do you hear that?” Then adds with a shudder of pleasure “Do you  _ smell _ that?”

The thumping grows louder and then a gruff voice is declaring “This is private property.” And there’s a phone and an inhaler being chucked their way, and somehow they end up clutched in each of Stiles’ hands. Then the mans turning around and walking away as Stiles gossips “You know who that is? It’s Derek Hale.” Stiles is definitely not looking at his ass. Definitely not.

The thumpings getting farther...softer? As well as the smell.

Allison eyes Stiles and says with a smirk “Now I know why you’re over Lydia. You got your eyes set on Mr. Tall-dark-and-leather clad-hotness over there.” 

Stiles smacks Allison’s arm and says “Allison, I don’t even know the guy. Yet.”

There’s a stutter in the thumpings rhythm.

Allison whistles and says “Somebody’s got plans.”

Stiles keeps his eyes on the man until he disappears and states “Yes. Yes I do.” So matter-of-factly; no room for argument.

There’s a stutter in the rhythm one last time and the the thumping fully fades out into nothing, along with the insatiable scent. He can still faintly smell it; a ghostly reminder of heaven on Earth.

Stiles turns to Allison with a mournful visage “His whole family died in a fire some...six or so years ago. Him and his sister, Laura. She was the oldest. They haven’t been back since.”

“That makes you wonder what brought them back.”

Stiles turns back to where Derek disappeared and says “I hope he’s not staying in that burnt out shell of a house. That’s just...it would be kinda fucked up. Just...shitty. And painful.”

Allison says “You know, you’re a good guy.” With a nudge she adds “Now come on. You got your stuff.”

Stiles turns to Allison with a small smile “So...platonically fucking?”

Allison pushes him “Lets go.

Stiles almost dies.

—•_•—

Once they drop off Scott’s inhaler—thankfully Melissa was the only one there—they headed over to Stiles’ house, with a comfortable silence settling between the two.

Allison breaks the silence with a hesitant “Stiles?”

Stiles shifts from the road to her then back and says “Yeah?”

She straightens up and focuses on Stiles as she asks “Why don’t you say ‘dad’? You always say Sheriff.” When it looks like Stiles is going to try and refute she continues “And in the woods. The way you said ‘kid’. Like any other words you’d usually use were too...suspicious. Or something.”

Stiles grip tightens and slowly loosens as he struggles for words “I...just—What do you want me to say? That—It’s a loaded question.”

“I know. I want you to be able to tell me anything. I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. I know it’s barely been a day but...you’re important to me.”

Stiles struggles for something to refute or at least something as meaningful as Allison’s words, he sighs and lamely settles with “Same.”

With a suffering sigh he dejectedly says “I—I’ll tell you everything.”

Allison nods and says “Okay.” Her face a neutral mask.

As Stiles turns a corner and the driveway can be seen. The Sheriff’s cruiser is in the driveway. Shit. Fuck, how is he suppo—

“Hey?” He glances at her as he pulls in “You wanna sleepover?”

“Yes.”

“But I didn’t e—“

“It doesn’t matter. My moms making meatloaf.” Allison visibly shudders “It’s not great. But me and my dad can’t tell her.”

Stiles nods and says “Okay. Well, the only way he’ll leave is if someone stays over late. Or sleeps over. And the shit I’m about to unload is gonna take all fuckin’ night. So...yeah.”

“Okay.”

Stiles smiles and says “Okay.” Then looks to the front door, mentally preparing himself “Let's go then.”

They exit the vehicle and head for the door, the entirety of the short trek has Stiles mentally berating himself for letting someone in. A fucking stranger at that. He feels like he’s known her, like a sister. But he couldn’t even say anything to Melissa, and she’s like a second mom, but he’s totally down for Allison. It doesn’t make sense. He can’t be  _ vulnerable  _ in front of her; in front of anyone really.

Stiles unlocks the door and opens it, keeping Allison behind him and shuts the door. The Sheriff’s on the phone.

“Wolf hairs?” The Sheriff looks at the duo and dejectedly sighs and hastily adds “I’ll be there.”

They shuffle to the right as the Sheriff heads for the door. Once the sound of the cruiser’s engine fades into nothing Allison breaks the anxious silence.

“Well, he  _ seems _ nice.”

Stiles nods repeating “Seems.” Then adds “Where do you wanna platonically fuck?”

Allison smacks his arm and says “Shut th—“ Her eyes widening in awe “That’s it. Stiles. Platonically fucking. That’s it. Platonically fucking is telling your deepest  _ darkest _ secrets. Like just confiding in your friend. You’re amazing. Great idea.”

“Well. Okay.” Then adds “Yeah, so where you wanna do this? Couch? Bedroom?”

Allison snickers and says “This sounds like a sexual proposition.” Then sobers up and says “No, but seriously. Wherever you’re most comfortable. Where you feel safe.”

Stiles playfully rolls his eyes and says with a slightly uncomfortable huff of laughter “Shut the fuck up, Allison. Stop being weird.”

“Well, I’m  _ sorry _ that I care about your physical  _ and  _ mental state.”

“Ugh.” He rubs a hand over his face “This is so embarrassing. Let’s go to my bedroom.” Allison ties her hardest to contain her laugh.

He leads her up the stairs, carefully watching his step out of habit and halfway up he realizes he’s doing it and tries to glide into a carefree trek up the stairs. It’s futile, Allison noticed his cautious steps and when he froze up at the realization. So...no luck there.

Stiles motions for Allison to sit on his bed, while he takes his computer chair.

Allison looks down and back up “I saw the way you were on the stairs.”

Stiles laughs a watery and incredulous laugh and looks up and back to Allison as he says “I can’t hide shit from you, can I?”

“You should know this by now. Since we’re platonic fuck buddies.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and says in a watery voice “You’re funny. But, seriously.” Then asking more himself “Where do I even start?”

“The beginning.” She supplies helpfully.

“Okay.” He says, blinking back tears “Okay.”

He starts with “My uh—My mom died. It was my fault.”

In a matter of seconds he’s a sobbing mess in Allison’s arms as she guides him to the bed, she manhandles him into a horizontal position and wraps him in her arms whispering “Sh, sh. It wasn’t your fault. You’re  _ good _ . You’re gonna be okay.” A bunch of words along those lines as Stiles continues with hiccuping stutters at nearly every word.

“He was my  _ dad _ , Allison. My  _ dad _ .”

—•_•—

It’s nearly five hours later when a ringing rouses the two from their slumber. After Stiles told her  _ everything _ , he had slowly dozed off to Allison humming and arm rubbing his back. She couldn’t leave him and eventually sleep took her. It was a tiring day. Mentally. For the both of them.

Stiles sleepily says “Allison.” Into said girls shoulder.

Nothing.

Stiles says “Allison.” A decibel higher while head butting her shoulder.

Not even a twitch.  _ Ring, ring, rin _ —

“Allison!”

“Wha’! Wha’?” Then in realization “Oh.  _ Oh _ . Shit shitshitshitshi—Hi dad! I—Aaaaaaaaaah—“ She’s interrupted by a yawn “I’m sorry. I forgot to text you.”

A gruff voice replies “Where are you? Were you sleeping?”

“Uhm...I’m at the Sheriff’s house. We were sleeping.”

“Wh—“

“And dad, could I sleepover? Pretty please.” 

A sigh.

“Allison.  _ Who _ are you sleeping with?”

A smothered “Stiles. Stiles Stilinski.”

“Al—“

“ _ Stiles _ ! Shut  _ up _ . I’m sorry dad. He’s—We’re friends...so...can I stay over?”

“A—“

“ _ Please _ daddy.”

A long suffering sigh.

“Alright. Jus—“ Another sigh.

“Thank you dad! Could you bring me my light blue satin pajamas? The shorts with the button up. And could you bring me some jeans and a shirt? And socks and panties. Thank you!”

One last sigh.

“Allison. Send me the address. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Bye dad!”

Allison puts her phone on her stomach and lets out a breath.

“So...platonically fucking?”

There’s a choked off cough from Allison’s phone.

Allison squeals and chucks her phone at the wall. It falls in a laundry hamper. Hopefully it isn’t empty. She still has to text her father.

Drowsily nodding along to his words he says “Well...that was…”

“Yeah. It was.”

—•_•—

“No, you go get it! It’s  _ your _ house.”

“Ugh.  _ Fine _ .” Stiles trudges down the stairs to answer the door.

Stiles answers and dayuuum. Allison has a hot dad, but boy does he stink. It’s like that hint of bitterness on Allison except tenfold. Guns. He has guns. Great.

“Stiles?”

“Sir.”

“Where’s my daughter?”

Stiles opens the door wider and beckons the man and his piercing blue eyes in as he shouts “Allison!”

Allison reaches the bottom of the stairs the same moment her father reaches the staircase.

She awkwardly says “Hi dad.” Then adds in a remorseful tone “I’m s—“

“Here.” He hands her a bag and a wad of cash.

“But—“

“Nope.” He’s already backing up and turning around.

“But, dad—“

“I’m leaving.” He says with a finality, and reaches the door, with a nod to Stiles he’s out the door and Stiles is closing it.

Once Allison hears her fathers engine fade out she mournfully sighs and says “Well...that was…”

“Yeah. It really was.”

Stiles turns and heads up the stairs, looping his arm with Allison’s and pulling her up after him and accusing “ _ You _ never told me your dad was hot.”

“Ew! Stiles! What the fuck! Why? Why?  _ Why _ ?” She pushes him away as they enter his room and declares “I’m sorry. We can’t be friends. How am I to know that you’re not only with me cause you got the hots for my dad?”

“Okay! Okay. Jesus man. First of all, I don’t have the “hots” for your dad.” He visibly shudders and says “Ew. Second of all, I was stating fact. I’m not like  _ into _ him.”

Allison laughs and says “Yeah. You only got the hots for one Derek Hale.” With waggling eyebrows she adds “Am I right?”

Stiles rolls his eyes and playfully says “Shut the fuck up.”

“I hear no  _ denial _ .” The last word said in a song-song tone.

Allison sets her things on his bed and says “He left money. He—Why—Ooh! Stiles! Let’s get Chinese food. _Chinese_ _food_.” Then more level headed “Do you want Chinese?”

Stiles smothers a laugh and says “Yeah, yeah. I like Chinese. I want food. Allison order the food.  _ Now _ . Feed me.”

“Fine. Fine. Hand me my phone.”

Stiles grabs it off from his desk and tosses it to her as he says “I have a few local Chinese places in the drawer.” He nods to the left, turning the desk chair minutely in said direction, then adds “Like pamphlets. Menus?”

“Okay. Give em’.” She makes grabby hands at Stiles.

—•_•—

Stiles slowly comes back after his food nap. Mmmmmmm. Chinese food. He wants Chinese food. Stiles groggily sits up and crawls to the end and drops down and settles against the bed, grabbing one of the extra boxes of fried rice and moaning around a spoonful of it. This is heaven.

Next thing he knows Allison’s settling in to his right, grabbing a box of fried rice and shoving a forkful of rice into her mouth.

She looks at Stiles and whines “ _ Stiles _ . Give me your spoon.”

Stiles sits his spoon in his box and says “Why?”

“ _ Because _ .”

Stiles rolls his eyes and takes Allison’s fork out of her hand, Allison drowsily beams at him and says “You’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Then in thought “Why does your dad have guns?”

Allison stares at him, then sheepishly looks down “He’s a—uh, he’s a gun dealer.” Then corrects “Well, weapons dealer, really.”

“That’s super cool.” Then adds as an afterthought “He smelled so  _ bad _ . I almost sneezed.”

“What do you mean?”

“It just…” He struggles for the right wording and settles on “...okay. Remember this morning, how you were on the phone with your mom and you said you forgot a pen?”

Allison is nodding along and abruptly stops and splutters “Wha—How do you know that? I was outside.”

“That’s it. All day. I heard you and that old dude from outside to the classroom. And when you were talking to Lydia, I heard the entire conversation.  _ And _ I heard you and Scott. From right outside the locker rooms. And at practice did you see the ball. That was...unnatural.”

“Cool. Enhanced senses. But, uh, what does it have to do with my dad?”

“The smell. I smelled it on you, but it wasn’t as pronounced. It was like gun, and steel but not. Like more in depth. I don’t know, but...yeah.”

“Well I fire guns occasionally. And I do archery. And I know knives.”

“That’s super cool. I know guns, but knives, arrows, like damn. Lik—Ooh! Ooh! Ally’s a badass.” Then adds in realization “Ooh! Alli’s a baddie.” Then in thought “Wait. Wait. Do you even want a nickname? Or is that already your nickname?”

“I’ve always wanted a nickname, but I couldn’t give myself one. Only douchebags do that. By douchebags I mean stupid people.”

Stiles nods and says “I got it, but uh...how do we spell it? I spelled it differently both times. Either a l l y or a l l i. So...choose.”

“Ooh! Uhm...a...l l...y. Yeah. A l l y. Ally. I like it. I’ve never had a y in my name. Cool.”

Allison stews in her “new” name and suddenly her eyes are comically widening as she splutters out “Ooh! Ooh! Stiles! Supernatural! It’s not unnatural, it’s supernatural. You know that movie Teen Wolf?”

Stiles nods and then his eyes widen comically and says “That’s it! I’m a werewolf! I mean, in the woods the animal had glowing eyes. And I’m pretty sure it howled.” Then more to himself “I’m a werewolf.” Then to Allison “I’m a werewolf?”

“Stiles. It makes sense. The glowing red eyes just, like...reaffirmed the whole thing.” She hits his arm and says “Why didn’t you tell me all that?”

Stiles deadpans “Glowing, red, eyes, Allison. That makes me sound even crazier than the whole disappearing bite.” He reconsiders and huffs a laugh “I totally knew it. When I got home last night and was like,  _ werewolf _ , but like, sarcastically. But now.” He shrugs then looks to the bathroom door and back with wide eyes saying “Oh yeah, you wanna see the shirt, I haven’t cleaned shit up.” Punctuated by a shrug.

Allison shrugs and sets her carton and spoon beside her saying “Okay.”

Stiles follows.

Stiles is holding up his shirt to show Allison as a sudden realization hits him. He drops the shirt, before Allison can utter a peep he’s asking “Ally? Holy shit. The thing—the werewolf that bit me. There were wolf hairs on the body.” Then more to himself “How did I not put this together before. Of course. That’s so  _ obvious _ .”

“Yeah.” Allison nods in thought, letting out a sigh “It really is.”

“El lobo.” Then adds with a small childish smile “Lobito.”

“What?” Then she adds “Why?”

Stiles shrugs. “I like Spanish.” Then with a bright smile and jazz hands he adds “Plus,  _ wolves _ .”

Allison nods with an incredulous yet fond smile and says “Okay.”

“Well. I'm gonna wash this shit.” He looks at Allison and asks “You want me to wash your shit too?”

Allison huffs a laugh and nods her head then asks “Can I take a shower?’

Stiles is already grabbing their things as he hums an affirmation.

“Towels?”

“In the cabinet next to the sink, second shelf from the top.” He says as he’s halfway out the door.

He’s shoveling their clothes in the washer when he starts to hear this thumping, like in the woods, getting louder and as he goes to pour some laundry soap he sees a hint of a glowing, piercing blue in the corner of his eye. He nearly misses the washer entirely as he throws his head the other way. He swears he saw something in the small window to the left of the washer and dryer. The thumpings getting further away, near the back of the house.

Stiles quietly walks to the back of the house following the somehow oddly soothing sound, careful to avoid the creaks of the aging house of horrors. It sounds like it's right outside the door, maybe it's the neighbors cat or dog—wait..nobody has a pet on this street. Okay. It could be a stray. Yeah, it's definitely a stray. Just standing on the porch.

He slowly and cautiously walks to the backdoor and opens it, wincing at the creaking. He gets hit, suddenly engulfed by the same scent in the woods, that heavenly, heavenly smell. Then he's getting pushed back by a fangy Derek Hale.  _ How _ is this hot? Honestly, shouldn't he be terrified? Maybe he's just desensitized from the years of abuse, he shrugs and comes back to the feeling of claws pricking at his throat.

Well. He surely did not expect this. Derek Hale. A werewolf. Stiles eyes go comically wide as he gasps “Holy shit! Laura Hale! Your her brother. That was your sister.” Then realization hits him and he says ”Oh God, Jesus Derek. I'm so sorry. Im…you must...the only... _ fuck _ . The fire.” Derek was a child. He remembers, he was at the station, consoling an older boy who had just lost everything. He remembered the whispered  _ so so sorry _ ’s, and the  _ didn’t know, should’ve  _ known and the  _ my fault _ s and the gut wrenching one, Derek probably didn’t know it had even come out, it was a slip of the tongue.  _ She _ did it. It broke Stiles’ already splintered heart. He shuts up at the menacing growl emanating from the shifted man in front of him.

Derk gives an obvious inhale and seems to choke? He does something and is back against the counter growling out “Why do you smell like  _ her _ ?” With...is that hurt? On his face. Is Derek Hale offended? And does he mean her as in Allison or... _ her _ .

Stiles straightens up and suddenly remembers that he never even closed the washer—much less started the damned thing. Stiles holds up a finger and says “One minute, big guy” Then he's walking to the laundry room and closing the top and pushing a button. He turns and suddenly there's a werewolf draped all over him and a neckful of Derek and scruff and ohgodhemightdielikerightnowifhedoesntso—oh thank the Gods. Derek's pulling back with a scowl, he folds his arms and says “I don't like it.” Is he  _ pouting _ ?

“Are you pouting?”

Derek scowls and growls “You smell like hunters.”

“Uhhhhhhhm...hunters?”

“The girl you've been sleeping with.” He glances at the ceiling and back down to Stiles and says “Werewolf Hunters.”

Stiles stares back aghast, backing up to the dryer “N—No. She—” He looks down in utter bewilderment as pieces start falling in place; that smell, the—holy shit, no.

“Yes. The Argents.” Derek states and bites out the last word on a growl.

He was talking outloud. Great, now Derek thinks he’s a fucking weirdo, oh shit, wait “Me and Allison are totally not together, like Im super  _ super _ gay.” He sucks in a lungful and adds “Just saying.” Derek is definitely blushing. Stiles backs up—mentally—and asks “How, uh wou—” He looks down in horror and sadness as he mumbles “Holy shit...oh my god I’m so sorry. The fire, I knew it wasn’t an accident, but there was no mot...there was.” He looks back up into the eyes that look so far away when they’re really only a foot apart in the small hall, and as a tear falls from his watery eyes he asks “You were a pack of wolves. And they murdered your whole family?” He wasn’t really asking.

Derek’s eyes seem to harden in a fraction of a second and he's growling and storming through the house to the back door.

Stiles slides down the dryer to a sitting position, eyes trained on the spot the sourwolf had just vacated, he blows out a watery and emotional breath as more tears trickle down his pale cheek, getting hit by the bitter scent of sorrow and so much pain, it hurts. He doesn’t feel good. But now he knows the  _ she _ is an Argent.  He looks the way the wolf had just stormed and utters “I’m so  _ fucking _ sorry.” Because he  _ knows _ , okay? He fucking  _ knows _ . Then the thumping gets quieter until he can’t hear anything anymore—aside from the noise the stairs make as they’re stepped on and the Californian wildlife outside.

He’s pulling himself up from the floor when Allison’s head peaks around a corner and then shes at his side asking “Woah, what happened? Are you okay?” Stiles?”

Stiles stands up fully and wipes at his watery eyes as he steps away from her and cautiously asks “Allison, what do you know about your family?”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well...this happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I like it.

“Uhm...what?”

“Argents.” He snarls out, his eyes glowing as he struggles to keep his teeth and claws in while he continues in a growl “Werewolf hunters.  _ Your  _ family.” He snarls ‘your’ as his fangs elongate.

“Stiles. Whatever it is I have  _ no _ idea. Okay?” He snarls, she’s trembling in terror now as her quivering voice speaks “Stiles. Come on, calm down.”

Stiles starts hearing that sound, then he’s pushing past Allison and running out the backdoor with a howl, heading into the woods where his backyard connects with the Preserve. With an itch under his skin.

Allison slides down the wall and blows out a relieved breath as she mutters “What. The. Actual, fuck?”

  * ••



Stiles is shifted and desperate, for what, he doesn’t know. That sound, the smell—holyshitit’sDerek. Stiles eyes widen comically for half a second before he picks up his pace, dodging and weaving around trees and branches, he’s getting closer. Then there’s a body slamming into him. He smells so fucking good. He shoves his wolfed-out face into the crook of the older man's neck and inhales deeply while he growls out accusingly “What’s that sound?” Then in bliss “And  _ why _ do you smell so  _ good _ ?”

Derek is stiff under him—wait, when did he roll them over. Oh god, he must be making Derek so uncomfortable “I’m so sorry.” He says as he regretfully extracts himself, but is stopped by a tight, yet somehow hesitant grip on his wrist.

Stiles stares into the piercing blue hues of the man below him, hope flaring “I...I —It’s...it’s my heartbeat.”

Stiles head falls onto Derek’s chest in embarrassment as he mutters “I’m sorry I’ve been stalking your heartbeat.” 

“Ditto.”

Stiles looks up in shock “Did you—Did you just say  _ ditto _ ?” Then says “Oh my God, you did. That was just...wonderful—Oh.”

Derek suddenly rolls them over and sticks his face in the crook of Stiles neck and oh, oh he did not expect this. Derek is rumbling deep in his throat and then he’s growling out “You still smell like  _ her _ . You shouldn’t smell like her.”

Stiles relaxes into the comfort and safety he feels in this position as he says “Yeah? Then who should I smell like? Huh?”

Derek growls “Me.” Before sinking his teeth into the crevice between Stiles neck and shoulder.

Stiles has a second of panic and pain that quickly turns to pleasure and ecstasy. His hands grasp the older man’s shoulder blades, then ones sliding into his hair—which is super soft. Holy Gods he’s going to cum in his pants, oh Jesus fuck, fuck, fuck. How is this even happening? No one's even touched  _ down there _ .

There’s a possessive growl of  _ mine _ and suddenly Stiles fangs are out and sinking into the same place he’d been just minutes before and yeah. He definitely just came in his pants. Yepe. That  _ just _ happened, but he’s too blissed out to give two shits. So he extracts his fangs from that delicious spot and starts lapping at it with his tongue, occasionally leaving lazy kisses until it completely heals. Oh yeah. Super healing, he kinda hates super healing right now. He wanted that to last until he could do it again. What if Derek doesn’t want to do it again? What was this? Wha— “What is this?” He pulls back with a vulnerable and hesitant voice, not really wanting to hear the answer. Derek stops his movements, pulls back a bit, his eyes possessively trained on the area he just vacated, but a soft plea of “Derek.”  Has his eyes shooting to the flushed boys eyes, Derek licks his lips at the boys disheveledness, while Stiles shudders under the hungry and possessive gaze.

“Whatever you want it to be.”

Did—Did he jus—What the— “What the hell do you mean  _ whatever you want it to be _ ?” He’s clinging with rage to the green Henley Derek’s wearing, a scowl on his flushed face, pleasure dissipating.

Derek loosens the intensity in his eyes as he looks down and struggles for the right words, with self-hatred and anger mixed with anguish and desperation running through his every   thought. Stiles is patient as he slips his right hand under the shirt and begins rubbing up and down in a soothing motion, somehow knowing exactly what he was feeling, more so than the faint scent in the night air. Derek shivers at the touch and looks up “Anything. I—I’ll do anything, be anything. As long as I’m with you. I—” looks down in desperation and anguish “I need you.”

_ Okay _ . This was definitely most unexpected “Uhm...what do you mean  _ I need you _ ?”

Derek stiffens and Stiles sees the moment the walls come up, he can feel it, and he kinda dies inside. The emotionless way he tries to get up and leave. But he can’t. Stiles has wrapped himself around  _ his _ wolf. Woah. Possessive much, damn.

Derek manages to stand with Stiles latched onto him, his face buried in Derek’s neck, soothing his anxiety with Derek’s scent as he growls “No.” Derek definitely isn’t trying as hard as he could be to get Stiles off. Derek catches just the faintest whiff of Argent and then he’s pushing Stiles against a tree and scenting him thoroughly and oh so roughly as he growls  _ mineminemineminemine _ in Stiles ear. Stiles hands slide into Derek’s hair, tugging it to get more access to the source of his scent. Oh god, he’s gonna come in his pants. Agai—Oh no.

Allison lets out a squeal and asks in horror “Stiles?”

Stiles rests his head on Derek’s shoulder, trying to get his breath back. He starts to hear the beginning of a snarl and places fangs against Derek’s pulse point, daring him to snarl in his best friends face. Derek whimpers. He fucking  _ whimpers _ . Fuck. He’s going to be the death of him.

Stiles lisps in a desperate and pleading whisper “Derek. She’s my best friend. I know she has no idea. She just...I know, okay? I trust her.” Then adds dangerously “Do you trust me?”

Derek begrudgingly nods against Stiles throat, a whine leaving his throat.

“Good.” He draws back and lets the shift melt away as he starts talking to Allison “ _ Hey _ Ally! What’re you doing out here?” Then whispers to Derek “Come on big guy. This is...Jesus. It’s probably like four in the morning. Come on, put me down.” Derek tightens his hold, Stiles growls “Now.”

Derek begrudgingly lets him down.

Stiles steps toward Allison but there’s a hand around his wrist “Derek. A minute. Wait here.” He hears a growl as he continues, but no one's getting mauled, so it’s okay. As he’s walking Allison is...why the light? What is she d—His hands come down to his pants trying to cover the wet patch. This is awkward. 

“Uhm...was I interrupting?” She’s smirking. The asshole

“You know what? You were interrupting and you know it.” Then he adds “I’m really sorry about earlier. Just...Derek. He was...and I was...I just—and the fire…” He’s just muttering to himself, Allison’s paying attention to something much more alluring. Stiles looks up and realizes what she’s doing and suddenly he’s in her face growling “You can’t have him. He’s  _ mine _ .” Then he’s backing up all the way to Derek’s front in seconds. Jesus Christ. He needs to get a fucking handle on things. Lips in his throat bring him back.

Derek rumbles “I like it when you get possessive.” There’s something. Is that...oh fuck. Derek’s hard and oh god he still needs to talk to Allison. 

Stiles steps away from Derek, he whimpers. He doesn’t know what he does to him. Fuck. He cautiously goes back to Allison. She’s fucking smirking. Of course. The asshole. He doesn’t even try to cover the wet patch which is slightly bulging. Allison has seen it, everyone knows it’s there. It happened, whatever. Does he have a thing for nec—He definitely has a neck kink.

“What are you smirking at?”

“Well…” She flicks her eyes to his front, to his face, to Derek, and back again to Stiles “You were right. You  _ definitely _ got him.” She puts her phone in her left hand and says “Dude, high five.”

Stiles lets out an exasperated sigh as he goes in for the high five. He quickly turns around and eyes Derek and warily declares “This was  _ not _ a one time thing. Emphasis on  _ not _ .” Then he turns back to his best friend. “I suppose proper introductions are in order?” Then Derek’s glued to his back, slightly more relaxed with the ease and innocence Allison has.

Allison cackles “Proper? Proper! Ha!”

Stiles glowers “ _ Allison _ , this is Derek Hale. Derek, this is Allison Argent.” Derek stays quite with calculating eyes as he watches the scene play out. “Derek is my…” He looks at Derek, but before he can say anything terribly sappy like  _ my person _ , Allison is interjecting.

“Boyfriend?  _ Lover _ ?” She says  _ lover _ with waggling eyebrows then adds “Soon to be fiancé, cause I’d lock that shit down  _ real  _ quick if I were you. Wait, how old is he? Eh, never mind. Love has no age.”

“Uhm...I—We...haven’t really gotten that far.” He confesses with an embarrassed smile as he scratches his nape, his fingers slightly graze Derek’s stubble, it sends a shiver of arousal down his spine. He blushes harder than he was moments before as Derek peppers kisses on his nape in encouragement.

Stiles looks up at Allison and she has a shit eating grin “Lock. That. Shit.  _ Down _ Stiles.” Derek lets out a low rumble in agreement. Stiles flushes hard.

Allison’s eyes glance at Stiles stretched-to-infinity shirt and her eyes brighten “Nice bite mark.” What? That shouldn’t— “Give me your phone.” He holds out his hand. Allison eyes him in oblivious confusion “Allison.” He says in exasperation “He waves at the general area and sayS “Bite mark? Super healing?” After Allison’s lips parted in understanding he adds “Yeah. So, phone?”

She hands it over. The first thing he sees is the time, he growls as he slides over for the camera. He has school in like two hours, at the most. He needs sleep. Well actually, he did take several naps that probably amount to a nights sleep. Eh, he’s fine. He holds the phone outward hovering over his throat. Derek moves his head to Stiles’ right shoulder so he’s not in the picture. He’s so fucking adorable. And camera shy. He wants to get Derek doing dirty, dirty things on camera. Oh my God, he needs to stop thinking like that when Allison’s there. Smirking. Is that permanent now. He takes the picture and then clicks the little box in the bottom left corner and yeah. There’s a definite bite mark. And he can  _ smell _ his own arousal flaring as he stares at it. Derek starts lapping at the scar as he growls  _ mine _ and  _ mate _ over and over. Then Stiles is turning around and shining the flashlight on Derek’s throat. Oh this so hot, he’s literally gonna cream his pants. Then he’s kissing and nipping and—and then there’s an awkward cough. 

“Uhm...guys?”

Stiles turns in annoyance and embarrassment, he can’t really decide which one is showing on his features with the overpowering scent of arousal from the two of them permeating the air. “Well...uhm...here.” He throws the phone at her. She flails to catch it.

“Dude. I literally just got it.” She says in annoyance “So, should I just go back—“ She pauses at the rigidness that comes over Stiles.

Derek whines against Stiles throat at the terror that starts to overpower the air. Derek hears the Sheriff unlocking the front door and he heard everything Stiles had told Allison. What? He said ditto. He has abandonment issues. He’s clingy. If you smell Mate. It’s all consuming. Especially when he remembers the boys doe-like eyes after the fire, he knew then, but he was a child and Derek had just gotten his entire family killed. He couldn’t hurt Stiles. But he was so unhinged and lonely and touch-starved, physically and emotionally. Laura was there but she wasn’t  _ there _ , not really. Their bond between Alpha and Beta was thin barely held together, even uncle Peter’s Alpha bond was thicker and more developed than his. Laura never tried and he slowly withdrew. Derek knows how Stiles feels, he was emotionally and physically abused, probably since his mom died a couple weeks before the fire. He saw the bruised cheekbone and the fading bruise on his eye. He hid his face in the child’s neck inhaling deeply, trying to memorize the scent as he sobbed into the child’s shoulder for more than the loss of his family, the loss of Stiles’ innocence. He was just a child, he wanted to rip the Sheriff apart that day. He would have if Laura hadn’t dragged him across the country. He lets out a growl at the vicious snarl of “Fucking  _ Stiles _ . Can’t turn off a fucking light.” His hands wrap around Stiles’ waist in comfort.

A tear slides down his pale cheek as he turns and hides in Derek’s embrace. Allison looks at Derek in confusion. Derek’s like seventy percent sure she’s not her Aunt so he nods toward the house. She turns back toward the house and whips her head back and panics “What are we gonna do?”

Derek stares into her brown orbs for an intense few seconds, her shoulders slump in defeat. Before she can say anything Stiles is turning and wiping at his slightly puffy eyes as he says in a watery voice “We will wait till he’s in his bed and sleeping. Then we’ll go back inside.” He ends determinedly.

Allison winces and asks “How long is that gonna take?”

Stiles thinks about it “If he gets the Scotch, thirty to forty five minutes, if he goes straight—he got the Scotch.”

Allison glances back toward the house then back and sighs as goosebumps flare up again and she shivers “Fuck it’s cold.”

Then Derek is begrudgingly taking off his leather jacket and handing it to Allison. Stiles observed the interaction. Allison thanks him in relief and slips on the jacket, wrapping it around her small frame. Derek gives a curt nod and returns to Stiles’ side. Stiles feels like he should be jealous that she’s getting to be wrapped up by Derek’s scent but he isn’t. He feels...happy and giddy, thinking that maybe everything will be okay. He looks at Allison and back to Derek. An elated smile creeping its way on his face, until he’s full on beaming, he lets out “Progress.” On a happy, contented sigh.

“Progress?”

Stiles looks at Allison and says “You smell like Hunters and Derek got all triggered cause I smelled like hunter. And yeah hunters...killedhisentirefamilyspecificallyafemaleArgent.” He sucks in a lungful as he turns to Derek in apology, but Derek doesn’t look all that surprised, just exasperated “You’re not mad?”

“She’s your best friend. And from a family of Hunters. She was gonna find out anyway. Wait.” After an intense and guarded stare Derek continues “What did you mean by _female_ _Argent_?”

“Uhm...well at the station you said  _ she _ did it. And you said the Argents did it so I put two and two together. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry?”

The two wolves turn to look at Allison, her eyes are glistening with unshed tears.

Stiles strides to her to comfort her, she falls into his chest “No. You did nothing wrong. You had no idea. You had nothing to do with this. But...my parents. I feel terrible.” Then in a whisper “I feel bad for feeling bad.” Stiles looks at Derek trying to convey what he’s trying to say emetic nods and imploring eyes. Derek stiltedly wanders over and places a firm hand on Allison’s shoulder in an awkward offer of comfort. Allison stiffens for a moment but then she turns to Derek and embraces him with a contented sigh. Derek freezes, his hand hovering in the space her shoulder just vacated, he looks at Stiles with wide eyes. Stiles is beaming, radiating happiness as he places Derek’s hands in hugging positions. Derek doesn’t quite relax, but after a head gesture and imploring eyes Derek sighs and relaxes to the best of his abilities seeing as he’s comforting the child of an Argent. This is crazy. After another head nod from Stiles he rolls his eyes and pulls back so he can look at her “Don’t be sorry. It’s okay...to feel bad. You’re your own person.”

Allison looks with wide eyes “I’m really sorry. I wish I could’ve—I wish I could do something.” Derek pats her shoulder.

As a brilliant idea comes to mind Stiles says “Maybe you can.”

Allison turns to Stiles with hope in her eyes “Really? How?” She pulls the jacket tighter around her body and crosses her arms as a breeze comes. She unconsciously leans into Derek’s warmth. Stiles sees it and shoots Derek an ecstatic smile.

He looks back to his wonderful Goddess and tries to explain his plan “Okay, this is just an idea, and—“

“Stiles.” Allison muffles a laugh at Derek  _ done with it _ tone. She literally ships them so hard.

Stiles smiles sheepishly as he continues “Well, what if you brought up the Supernatural. With your parents. But first, you should be like trying to get into the family business—wink wink, nudge nudge, hint hint—then start being like I saw dot dot dot, say something about seeing something unexplainable—werewolf related—and if they don’t say anything then hint that you’re not believing a word they say like,  _ right _ ,  _ sure _ ,  _ okay _ ,  _ yeah _ ...so...input.”

Derek goes to argue against it but is stopped by Allison’s decisive “Okay.” And determined nod.

Stiles questions “What?” In surprise.

“I mean yeah. I want the truth. I’ll do it.” She says with a shrug.

Derek adds “And we have a rogue Alpha. Biting people.”

Allison turns to him “Rogue...Alpha?”

Derek sighs and says “A feral Alpha. Basically.” Allison’s eyebrows somehow get higher, before she tries to repeat his sentence again Derek Ives her a look, she yields. He starts with basic pack hierarchy “There are three types. Alpha, Beta, and Omega. An Omega doesn’t have a pack, it’s a feral werewolf, and unhinged. The wolf completely takes over, completely overpowers the human side. A Beta can have a pack, they submit to an Alpha. An Alpha is the leader of a pack. He can turn humans by bite or in rare cases if they go deep enough, claws. Alphas have red eyes. Only Alphas. Sometimes Alpha Mates. Betas Can have gold or blue. Same for Omegas. Feral Betas have the chance to become Omegas if they can’t get control. A feral Alpha is just a feral Alpha or a Rogue Alpha. A Rouge Alpha will be hunting for pack, I’m actually surprised it hasn’t bitten any more than Stiles.” The next words are directed at Stiles “The Alpha will want to hunt with the new Beta.”

“Like deer, or woodland creatures?”

Derek just stares at Stiles with a  _ really _ plastered all over his face.

Stiles holds up his hands in a placating manner as he says “Okay, okay? No more stupid questions, but come on. I was being hopeful.”

Derek sees Allison shiver and tunes into the house, there’s a light snoring from the Sheriff, but he isn’t in his bed. Derek looks at Stiles and nods his head toward the house then to Allison, trying talk with his eyes. After a few confused seconds Stiles eyes widen and he mouths  _ oh _ . He turns to Allison “Ally, you wanna go in. He’s asleep. Although we have to be quiet, he’s at the table.”

Allison says “Finally.” Then she turns on her heel with the flashlight directly in front of her, lightening her path back to the house. As Derek is listening Allison asks “What’s the difference between blue and gold eyes?”

Derek stiffens, but relaxes at the comforting touch from Stiles. He turns to Allison and says “Gold is...innocent.” Then he dreadfully adds “Blue is a killer.” There’s a sharp intake of breath from his left. Derek’s face falls, before he can runaway Stiles is grabbing his chin and lifting his head.

When Derek’s eyes look down Stiles growls “Look at me Der.” Derek drags his eyes up painfully, slowly “Whatever you did, you had a reason. I  _ know _ you’d never hurt someone, without a good reason. A single tear escapes his watery eyes and Derek’s wipes it away with his thumb, his grip tightens as he says with a deadly threat behind it “And don’t you  _ ever _ think about running away.”

“How—“

Stiles pats Derek’s cheek a few times as he says “I’ve got you figured out, at least partly.”

“Okay Loverboys, I know, I know. Sorry to break the intimate moment—and oh my God, I ship it so hard, you guys are beautiful—but freezing human over here. You may kiss the bride. Let’s go.”

Stiles head falls on Derek’s shoulder as he huffs a laugh, Derek looks at the brunette girl in exasperation. This is his life. Stiles looks up and over at Allison, he shakes his head and says “Okay, Goddess. Come on, Der.”

He opens the door, doesn’t even pay a glance in the direction of that monster. Derek growls as they walk past the table and Allison trails the couple, wishing that one day she’d have something close to that.

They silently make their way up the stairs and to Stiles’ room, narrowly avoiding the creaking spots on the staircase. Allison slides down at the end of the bed and picks the container backup and continue eating, Stiles grabs his box and fork and settles in his computer chair, Derek is stoically standing against the desk. Stiles shoves his half filled box of fried rice in Derek’s face and growls “Eat.” Derek’s eyes are wide as he takes the container, after another growl of “Derek.” He shoves a forkful in his mouth “Good.” Then Stiles is rushing to the bathroom and coming out in loose sweats. His eyes flick to Derek’s face, then to his jeans. In seconds Derek is pushed into the bathroom with a pair of sweats. Once they’re settled down and Derek is sitting criss cross next to Stiles while they take turns with the takeout box Allison interrupts the silence.

She looks at the two of them and says “So...what are we doing? I mean—“ She looks at her phone “Five o’three. Is he staying till school or like leaving. Maybe more info on the Supernatural? What? We need detailed plans. Or detailed ideas to form plans.”

“Well, we have like two hours-ish before we gotta go to school. So I vote we figure out a plan for Allison to manipulate—“

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Why? That’s literally what you’re gonna do. It's not bad.”

“It sounds terrible, I  _ manipulated _ my parents. Nope. I sound like a terrible child.”

“I manipulate people.” He then turns and rushes out to Derek “But never—I’m not Kate.”

Derek smiles at him. Once again unexpected “I know.” He’s smirking now, the bastard.

“Stiles?” She sighs “It's just...I—“

He turns to Allison “Listen, it’s just subtly guiding a person to a certain conclusion. Okay? How does that sound? Better?”

“Considerably so. I guess. Let’s go. Come hither oh great ideas.”

“I  _ love _ you” Then he rushes out “Platonically.” As he turns to Derek. He’s smirking. The little fucki— “Shut up you littl—“

Allison coughs “Guys. Did—Sterek.  _ Bro _ , bro,  _ bro _ . Sterek.”

“The fuck do you mea— _ Bro _ ,  _ dude _ ,  _ dude _ . Sterek.  _ Sterek _ . You’re a fucking genius.” He turns to Derek “We’re Sterek.”

“What?” Ha,  _ now _ who’s smirking?

“Stiles and Derek.” He waves between Derek and himself “Sterek.”

“Oh.”

Stiles is sporting a self-satisfied smirk as he says “Yepe.”

“So...back to the plan.”

Stiles turn back to her and gets down to business “Okay. First of all, your going home at some point tomorrow and you’re going to tell your father that I am extremely gay and am in an  _ extremely _ committed relationship. With an  _ extremely  _ aesthetically pleasing male. Dick and all. Cause I assure y—“

“Don’t finish that sentence. Please. You can gush about your sexlife when said sexual partner is not  _ literally _ six inches—at most—from you.”

“Stiles sheepishly says “ _ Yeah _ , yepe, got it.”

“Good.”

Derek just stands there watching the interaction in amusement, his eyes crinkled at the edges.

Stiles begins again “Well that went off track fast.”

“Indeed it did.”

“So. You should—Okay. After—“ 

“Wait! Let me—“ She swipes through her phone “Okay, you may proceed, good sir.” At Stiles confused visage she adds “I’m recording it.”

“ _ Fine _ . So. You’re gonna go home after school. Talk to your parents about what happened the other night. Say that there was some kid that was out there and saw something. Ooh and say something like you swore you saw someone’s eyes change color...blue. Sorry Derek. But maybe it’ll push ‘em. Then just before you exit the conversation and make sure you end every conversation. You have to have the control. But yeah, right before it ends say like...yeah, but I guess it must have been a trick of the light. The fluorescents  _ are _ pretty harsh. It’s not like they actually  _ changed _ colors, huff an incredulous laugh and walk away laughing and look oblivious as fuck. And uh, we’ll go from there..” If Allison did not have her phone Stiles is like 99.99999% sure she’d be writing notes, word for word, occasionally asking for him to repeat something.

Allison nods “Yeah, sounds good.”

Stiles claps his hands “Okay, De—“ Stiles freezes as he hears the sound of a wooden chair scraping against the the floor.

Allison sees the stiffness in Derek’s shoulders and the rigidness in Stiles’ and how their gaze is unfocused. She whispers “Stiles?” When no response comes she asks “Derek?”

Derek’s eyes land on her as he says “Sheriff.”

That seems to break Stiles from his terror-stricken form “Derek.” It's a plea. A cry for help.

Derek looks down at the boy, his pink lips slightly trembling, Derek wishes the Sheriff had never touched  _ his _ boy. He should’ve been there. Protected his Mate. He kneels in front of Stiles, between his legs, he rests his hands on Stiles’ thighs as he says “It’s okay. You’re safe. It’s gonna be fine.”

Allison makes her way over, to Stiles’ right side, placing a comforting hand on his own. Derek acknowledges her good instincts, comforting pack. Suddenly realizing that they’d kinda formed an impromptu pack. Albeit Alpha-less, but pack all the same.

They all hear the creaking as an abusive father makes his drunken way up stairs, seemingly hitting every creak in the staircase. Every stumbling noise the Sheriff makes is thunderous in the tense silence the three have remained in since the Sheriff started moving around. Then a doors slamming at the end of the hall. Derek’s eye twitches, Allison just barely holds back a flinch, and Stiles has a full bodied flinch that ends in a few uncontrollable tremors coursing through his body. Derek rubs Stiles thighs, up and down in a soothing motion and Allison swipes a thumb back and forth over the back of his hand.

After a moment of charged silence Derek grabs his hand and pulls him up and leads him to the bed, places Stiles under the covers. Allison awkwardly stands by the computer chair, looking like—for all intents and purposes—a lost puppy. Derek internally sighs and gestures for her to slide in next to Stiles, her eyes brighten and she slides under the covers and plasters herself along Stiles’ back. She gives Derek an imploring look and he rolls his eyes, he kisses Stiles’ temple and goes to grab his jeans to leave but is stopped by Stiles’ whimper of “Derek.” His wolf side desperate for the comfort of it’s Mate. Not quite soothed by the unofficial pack mate clinging to his backside in comfort.

Derek turns back slowly, he lets out a long suffering sigh at the wide doe eyes and pouted lip “Stiles. You have school.”

“Derek, stay and then I’ll drop you off wherever you’re staying then we’ll go to school.”

“I’m staying at the house.”

Is he fucking seri— “Are you fucking serious. Never mind, you’re going to stay here. Then Allison will go home, put some thoughts in her parents mind and I’ll come back here. To you. Okay?” He certainly wasn’t asking. “Now come ‘ere, big guy.”

Derek nods at the determined tone and gets under the covers, Stiles players himself against Derek’s back and lets out a contented sigh as he drifts to sleep.

—•_•—

Derek drives them, because...because Stiles just wants to cuddle a bit longer. So Allison and him are tangled up in the back. Derek lets out an exasperated sigh as both Stiles and Allison groan in pain as they hit another bump.

“I have a sneaking suspicion you’re doing that on purpose Derek Hale. And if—“ Another bump. That little, motherfuc—

“Get out.”

Stiles pulls the hoodie he was cocooned in off his head and glares at his...Mate. Mate. He loves that word and in seconds his grumpy glare is turned to a smile. Damn you Dere Hale and your—Fuck. Your perfect everything.

Allison’s out in seconds and pulling her hair into a messy bun. It’s beautiful, like dayum Goddess. She grabs her backpack and hefts it on her shoulders. Stiles glares at Allison’s ease. God damn white girls wh—He’s white. Jesus… “ _ Allison _ !” He whines out from his horizontal position “I don’t wanna go. Let’s just go back home and all of us cuddle.” He starts mumbling more to himself “Yeah. That was nice. Cuddling. And Derek. Derek’s perfectly rounded—“

“Okay!” Derek says loudly. He gets up—glad he parked farther away—and opens Stiles door “Stiles it’s just the upcoming full moon. It’s affecting your judgement. On a normal day you’d be fine. So.” He says as he grabs Stiles under the armpits and pulls “You’re gonna suck it up.” He grabs his bag and shuts the door. He pushes Stiles against the door and scents him. Stiles breath stutters in want as his hands fist in Derek’s Henley. Derek growls low in his ear “Maybe they’ll be a surprise when you come home.” He nips and licks at the scar hidden by the sweatshirt “And take the sweatshirt off. I want everyone to know you’re mine.” It’s a possessive growl.

“Oh my God, I’m gonna come in my pants. Der...baby you gotta stop.”

Derek pulls back and steps away as quick as he’d come “Okay.”

Oh, that lit— “Oh you little piece—Ugh!” He growls in frustration as he pulls Derek back to him and crushes their lips together. Oh god the taste. Fuck he tastes—God the smell. He’s gonna—

Stiles pushes him back breathless, the perfect picture of debauchery. His cheeks flushed red, his lips red and shining with spit, and his hair disheveled. He’s utterly breathtaking. Especially controlling himself so well. Fuck Derek wants Stiles to fucking mount him, to fucking  _ breed _ him. Woah. That got submissive fast.

“Okay.” He says straightening out his shirt, then grabs Derek’s face and sticks his tongue down his throat savoring the sweet  _ sweet _ taste of that man. Fuck he wants Derek so fucking bad. Then he's pushing him away and grabbing his bag, he turns back for one more kiss and then is promptly whisked away by Allison. Shes fucking smirking. These  _ people _ , I fucking tell you.

As they're sitting down in first hour Allison is asking “What was he saying? Also that was  _ super _ hot. Like damn.”

Stiles blushes hard “Oh my God, Allison! Stop it.” He looks out the window in thought and turns to Allison—thanking the Gods that Scott sat in the front “He’s literally—He—Fuck. He’s just—And  _ Mates _ . He’s just...my person.”

Allison snickers “You’re  _ so _ gone on him.”

Stiles playfully shoved her and then tunes into the teachers droning.

—•_•—

Allison’s chatting with Lydia about some retro fashion  _ thing _ Stiles has no fucking clue. None. But he nods and hums whenever they look his way. Once they return to each others conversation he goes back to work. Okay maybe mostly thinking about the work while he runs idea after idea through his mind of what Derek’s gonna do. He even took off his shirt. The bite mark on full display. It makes him turn red just thinking about it.

The be rings and it nearly makes him fall out of his chair. Jesus that was loud. 

He’s guessing they’re sitting together again. At lunch. He heads to his locker, and Lydia drags Allison to hers, something about a picture. Then Jackass’ right there. Like  _ right there _ . Shouldn’t he have heard him. Fuck.

“ _ Hey _ , Jackass.” Stiles draws out the  _ hey _ as Jackass seems to grow angrier. Douchebag.

He growls “Listen Stilinski. I don’t like you. But Lydia and Allison like each other. So Lydia said I need to be more friendly toward her best friends boyfriend. So.”

Stiles shuts his locker and turns to Jackass with an incredulous look “Is this.” He waves a hand between them “You being friendly?”

Jackass looks slightly uncomfortable and is he...grimacing?

“And first of all I am like super gay, like dicks dicks dicks all the way. And after school I’m gonna head home and suck my boyfriend’s cock.” At the shocked? Appalled facial expression? Is he blushing? He looks like he wants to bolt. Stiles adds with a smug smirk “Real good.” Then he says fuck it, cause messing with Jackass is  _ so  _ fun, he continues in brutal detail “Then when he’s nearly finished he’ll pull me up and bend me over my desk and shove his thick cock up my tight and unused hole. And he fuck me into oblivion. Brutally and relentlessly. No preparation whatsoever and no condom cause I wanna  _ feel  _ him inside me. And have his cum slowly drip out of my hole as he laps at it.” He shudders at his own thoughts. Holy hell, Jackass is going to  _ hate _ him. Then Stiles gets a small whiff of something—And oh God! Holy shit, is he— “Are you—Oh my God! His smirk drops. Are you seriously  _ aroused _ . I mean it’s fine if I am.” He looks down at his half hard-on. It’s been like that since the makeout session this morning “But you, no. No. Absolute—“

“Shut the fuck up you faggot!” He hisses “That’s what you are. Some begging cock slut who can’t keep his Goddamn legs closed. You’re fucking disgusting.  _ Fag _ .” He spits the last word in Stiles direction as he turns and heads for Allison and Lydia.

Stiles absolutely does  _ not _ cry. He doesn’t. Okay, fuck you he does. He turns to his locker and quickly begins opening as his vision blurs from the years he’s holding in. Once it’s open they fall and stream down his cheeks, his shoulders shake imperceptibly—he hopes. Cause if someone fuck—“

“Stiles?”

Fucking Christ “I’m fine.” He doesn’t turn around.

“Stiles. Come on. What happen—“ Stiles turns with his lips in an involuntary frown, his bottom lip protruding. It’s the most heartbreaking thing, she throws her arms around him and says “Oh, Stiles.” She tightens her grip as she asks “Sweetheart, what’d he do?”

Stiles muffles out a “He said things.” Around a silent sob as he clings to his best friend.

Allison pauses as the warning bell rings and continues in a firm voice, leaving no room for discussion “Tell me. Every word.”

Stiles trembles in her arms as he mumbles out “Faggot.” Allison’s gonna kill him. He adds in a whimper  “Cockslut.” And finishes “And that I can’t keep my l—legs cl—closed.” Then in barely a whisper “And how disgusting I am.”

“Stiles.” She pulls back with a firm expression “You are absolutely  _ not _ disgusting. Jackson is a disgusting bastard if he thinks he can say shit like that and walk away unscathed.” Then she mutters to herself “I’m going to fucking murder—No. Derek is goi—“

Allison is cut off by a soft whimper of “Please, Ally. Don’t tell him. He’ll think—“

Allison pulls back and is faced with a gut wrenching sight, but she treks on and finishes his sentence “That you are the most beautiful things he’s ever seen? And how he wonders how he got so damn lucky. That—“ She assures “Is true.” Then she adds “And of course I’m telling Derek. He’d be furious if you kept that from him and I’m all for Sterek. Relationships mean not keeping things from each other that just leads to actual lies. And then your breaking up and neither side is happy. So either you will or I will.”

Stiles nods dumbly, not liking it at all, looks passed Alison and makes eye contact with Lydia. It’s tense. She looks guilty. He shifts his gaze and Jackass is nowhere in sight. Suddenly there’s a clearing throat and then his hands are full of tissues. Lydia is apologizing, but she didn’t— “But you didn’t do anything.” He wipes at his eyes and then blows his nose. It’s absolutely appalling. Lydia doesn’t blink an eye.

“I told him to talk to you. But I swear I had no intention—I—I’m so sorr—“

“Lydia. It’s fine.”

“Stiles.”

“He told me what he said and he’s not sitting at the table. And I told Danny. He may or may not be punching Jackass in the face. So you don’t have to worry about that. And I strongly suggest you go to the office and report him.”

Stiles shakes his head “I was just egging him on. I was saying some pretty dirty things.” He looks at Allison “About Derek and I.  _ Doing _ —“ At the dawning look on his face he says “Yepe.”

“Who’s...Derek?”

Before Stiles Can think about it he’s growling “Mine.” And baring—thankfully—bare teeth. No elongated fangs. Thank the Lords.

“Possessive much.” It’s accompanied by a smirk. What is with people and all the fucki—

“What’s with all the smirking. Jesus do you guys rehearse. When and where. Jesus man.”

Lydia laughs “I like you.” She says it, her voice tinted in surprise, but a good kind. Like an extra nugget in you 10-piece order. Then she adds in a question “Platonically?”

Stiles breaks into a smile and turns to Allison “ _ Dude _ . She said it.” Then turns to Ludía in false sadness “I’m sorry dear, but, now you’re apart of our terrible group of heathens.”

Lydia brightens up and says with a smirk “That better mean I get to meet the hot hunk who likes to mark you up. Damn Stilinski.”

Stiles is still tinted red in the face as he sits down with his food. Jackson is nowhere in sight Stiles sees as he scans the lunchroom.

“I punched him.” Danny is next to him again. Well that’s why he isn’t here, probably whining in the office. Then Danny’s talking again ”I mean when Lydia told me I was mad. I couldn’t believe he’d say that. But then he’d come to me, I know he felt guilty. I saw it, but then he just tried to brush I off and I—I just got so mad.” Then he adds with a smile “There were no cameras. That’s why I’m not in the office. And Jackass' never say it was me. But what he said—Stiles I’m so sorry. On his behalf as well as my own.He regrets it. He dies and he feels guilty. He’s really a nice and protective guy underneath. I mean if someone had said that to me or even just said gay in a bad way he would have beaten the shit out of them. So I know he feels awful for what he said, and he’ll probably never verbally apologize, because he just, can’t. But sooner or later you’ll realize there’s been a mutual agreement made somewhere along the line. Hopefully. Cause if he doesn’t try to amend...I do t think I could...I wouldn’t be able to.”

Stiles is wide eyed at all the information and emotion “Thanks.” Then adds “I’m sure he’ll make it up to me somehow.”

“Yeah. I hope.” When Stiles turns back to his food to start eating he’s stopped by Danny’s voice “Oh, and nice mark by the way.” Stiles turns back and sure enough Danny in smirking. Stiles blushes, but he doesn’t try to cover he wants everyone to know he’s been claimed.

“Shut up, Danny.”

“Its cool, Im just playing man.” Danny holds up his hands in a placating manner “No judgement dude.”

Stiles turns back to his food and start scarfing down his burger and sweet potato fries, hes  _ starving _ . Allison is whispering something to Lydia, Stiles doesn't care enough to listen in. Allison hasn't touched her sweet potato fries, well...she wont notice if takes  _ just _ one. Seconds later there's a handful of sweet potato fries shoved in his mouth as Allison is looking from her plate to Stiles’ puffed cheeks. She starts laughing.

After he swallows the fries he says “I'm sorry, I'm still hungry. I'm  _ starving _ . Honestly.” He's moaning out his injustice by the end.

“It’s cool.” Then she adds “That is, as long as you buy me a pretzel tomorrow.” No room for argument.

“Yeah, yepe. No problemo.”

Stiles looks up at the clock on the wall, he grabs his bag and asks Allison “You done?” After scrunched eyebrows from Allison, he nods to her empty plate.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah, here.” She hands him her trash. As he’s almost to the trash he hears a shouted “Thanks.”

When the bell rings Lydia apologizes again and hugs him. She  _ hugs _ him. Him as in Stiles Stilinski.  _ Stiles Stilinski _ . Stiles leaves with Allison, flabbergasted at the not-stupid or conceited way she always is. It was a nice surprise. Even brightened his mood.

He saunters off to his fourth hour with Allison on his arm telling him how Lydia seemed better today. Stiles replies with a small “Yeah. Maybe Jackson was holding her back.” As they near their fourth hour.

—•_•—

“So what are you gonna do when you get home?”

“First.” She says with raised eyebrows “I will have an “out of the blue”—not really out of the blue, because  _ I’m _ in control of every aspect of a conversation—outburst  _ in _ the car. And swear to the lords and above, up and down that I saw someone’s eyes turn blue. Then get doubtful and by the end be stating I guess it was a trick of the light and say ‘right dad’ with a huff of laughter. Then exit the vehicle. Head in and tell my mother that I’m gonna pack up any weaponry I have in my room so that I have more room.. Then call you up and tell you how it went.”

“Well. Good job.” He adds in thought “You know what? It does kinda sound bad when you think about it too much. But.” He shrugs his shoulders “Your parents have to be the ones to pop your Supernatural cherry—pardon the incest insinuation—or  _ think _ they’re introducing you to the Supernatural for the first time.”

“Yepe. I got it.”

“Okay.” Stiles settles next to Allison on the bench as they wait for Allison’s dad.

“Hey!” She turns to Stiles and hits his shoulder “You know hitting someone with a car is vehicular manslaughter.” She sighs contently as she absently nods.

“Uhm...where—No,  _ why _ do you know that?” And after a quick sniff “And why do you smell so...content?”

Allison turns back to him with a manic grin “Have you heard of deathaddict.forum.com?”

“Uhm...no?”

The next few minutes have Stiles covering his ears, saying  _ lalala _ over and over again trying to block out Allison’s detailed description of a girl’s skull smashed on cement from the force she hit it from her bike.

“Allison.” Mr. Argent is walking toward them, holy shit Stiles is going to die.

Stiles stands up “Mr. Argent.” He almost salutes the man, but quickly rakes his fingers through his wild hair. It’s gotten longer the last few months.

“Hi Dad!”

He turns his eyes to Allison, done scrutinizing Stiles “You ready?”

“Yepe, lets go.” She gets up and heads to the car, but not before whispering to Stiles “I saw that.” Then promptly cackling and gasping for breath as she’s getting in the car.

Her father just looks between the two of them and just shakes his head, looks down then back up to Stiles, with a nod he’s walking back to the car.

As the sound of their engine fades, he can still faintly hear huffs of laughter and a low and bewildered “Salute? He was g—Sa—“ Then more faint laughs follow until he hears no more.

After most of the lot has left, he hears his baby’s noise. Roscoe is his  _ child _ , okay?  _ Okay _ ?  _ His _ .  _ Child _ . Period. Well, anywho. He heard roscoe and is standing at the edge of the cement as Derek stops the Jeep.

“Hey.” He's smiling stupidly.

There's a barely contained ferociousness in the way he breathes the two words “Get in.”

It’s been like eight hours, how? It’s like no time has passed since this morning. It takes seconds to get back into it and then he’s grabbing the handle and jumping into the Jeep. He has to dig his nails into the heel of his hand to not crawl over and plant himself in Derek’s lap. Now that he’s thinking about it, he doesn’t think Derek would stop him or even care, he’d probably like it.

“Stop it.” Derek growled at the scent of blood. Concern and anger in his tone.

Stiles looks down and laughs, he hadn’t even realized. Some of the arousal dissipates but the scent still lays heavy in the air. He looks into an intense gaze as he says in defense “I didn’t even know I was doing it. It wasn’t even on purpose.”

Then Derek speaks softer “Please don’t hurt yourself.” Aww. Sourwolf cares.

“Aww! Sourwolf is a teddy bear. He’s a softie behind all that dark brooding and leather clad everything.”

“Stiles.” He starts up the car and heads out of the school. As they near Stiles’ house Derek glances down at himself and back up as he mumbles “I don’t wear leather everything.” A pout dancing around his features.

Stiles huffs a laugh as he rolls his eyes and says “It was an exaggeration, Sourwolf.”

They pull into the cruiser-less driveway as Derek grumbles petulantly “I knew that.”

Stiles grabs his bag, gives Derek some consoling pats whilst saying “I’m sure you did, big guy. I’m sure you did.” Then promptly exiting the vehicle.

—•_•—

They’re laying in Stiles bed, drifting in and out of sleep and clinging to each other when Stiles suddenly shoots up at the Sheriff’s voice.

“Fucking  _ Argents _ . Fucking sneaky bastards.” He’s throwing open every cabinet looking for the alcohol Stiles had poured down the drain last week. He shouldn’t have been looking for another few days. Now his schedule is fucked.

“Shit.” He turns to Derek “I didn’t have enough time—I—Shit, I should’ve  _ known _ . I just...not enough time.” He’s mumbling to himself now, getting lost in his thoughts “Should’ve been prepared. Too late. Too late. Too—“

“Stiles.” It’s Derek’s kaleidoscope gaze and a firm hand on his shoulder that brings him back.

“Huh.” Then reality hits him, in seconds his eyes are watery, the tears threatening to spill over at the quietest of shouts and his lips are in a frown. It’s heartbreaking. He grabs Derek as his claws lengthen and his eyes flash, he’s clawing at Derek’s shoulder in confusion and shock and utter helplessness. Muttering “I c—can’t. I—I should’ve known. Should’ve known. Should’ve known. He was—wasn’t  _ supposed  _ to look. No, no, no. It wasn’t time. I had more time. I should’ve had more time.”

“Stiles.” It’s a plea, more than something to ground his Mate. Its broken and whimpered in the small space between them.

“D—Derek?” It’s shaken and raspy, but it’s the most beautiful thing Derek has ever heard.

“Yeah.” Its huffed out on a watery laugh “Yeah, it’s me.”

Then there’s thundering steps coming up the stairs and an angry voice getting closer. Stiles is shaking his head back and forth as he starts scooting back to the corner of his bed where it meets the wall. Derek grabs Stiles before he can get too far.

“It’s okay. Calm down.” He scans the room, then his eyes land on the bathroom, the Sheriff is rifling through something in his room. Derek looks at Stiles with apologetic eyes “I’m gonna be in the bathroom.” Before Stiles can whimper out a thing Derek is on him and sticking his tongue down Stiles’ throat, sucking on his tongue and then pulling back, leaving Stiles whimpering for a whole other reason “If he does anything to hurt you...I swear—“

Stiles swipes the back of his hand across his cheeks “Yeah, yeah. Got it.” Before he hits the threshold of the bathroom Derek turns back at the whispered exhale of his name, said like a prayer.

The Sheriff is steps from the door “Stiles.” Then he’s regretfully turning and shutting the door.

The Sheriff storms in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading it kids.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here.

“Give me your keys.” It’s a growl, a dangerous and vicious one, but it renders Stiles speechless out of shock. His mouth falling open slightly at the simplicity of it.

“O—Okay.” He gives a wide-eyed nod toward his desk, then the Sheriff is grabbing the keys from Stiles’ desk and slamming the door on his way out. Stiles looks from his desk to the closed door “That went...better than expected.” Then adds “Come on out Derek.”

Derek comes out after he hears the Jeep’s engine startup. As he sits on the bed he asks “Why’d he take the Jeep?”

“Alcohol.” Its muttered on a long-suffering sigh.

“But—Why—”

“I…” Stiles cuts Derek off with an explanation, of sorts “...I—Well, I dump his alcohol down the drain periodically. It’s just...he never notices. I pour mostly water into the bottle so it looks the same. But, by the time he gets to the stuff I tamper with he’s pretty out of it. So...yeah. I haven’t put anything back yet, they’re still all lined up in the basement, from like, weeks ago.” He lets out a bitter laugh at the last statement. He lays back and stares at the ceiling, he adds in thought “I should throw the bottles away. He’ll have the kitchen restocked by the end of the night.”

“St—”

“Oh!” Stiles shoots up “And uh, he goes out of county for alcohol and uses the Jeep so he’s not recognized. I mean, it’s conjecture, but extremely plausible.”

“O—Uhm, okay.”

“Yeah.” He sighs, then gets up.

As he stands Derek asks “Where are you going?”

“I—” He throws his thumb over his shoulder “The—Uh—The basement. Disposing of the evidence.” Then he’s heading out the door.

“Okay.” Derek mutters, lost in his own thought as Stiles is nearly up the stairs and to the room.

“Alright!” Stiles comes into the room and claps his hands together “I put them in the recycling bins. It’s all good now.” Then climbs on his bed and lays back. After a few seconds he pulls Derek on top of him.

Derek looks up with wide eyes out of surprise “You have good control.”

He sits up on his elbows, causing Derek to scoot back and straddle his right thigh as Stiles says “Really? Like werewolf control?”

Derek nods “You haven’t had an incident at school and whenever you  _ do _ get out of control, you can always calm down.” There's a pause “Do you know what an anchor is?”

Stiles' eyebrows come together in concentration “Well yeah. Do you—Uh—Do you mean something to ground a werewolf?” He scoots up more, his thigh ghosting over Stiles semi-hardened cock.

“Exactly.” Then with knowing eyes, he asks “What’s yours?” He grinds down on Stiles groin with intent this time.

Stiles’ head falls back and he moans out in annoyed pleasure “ _ No _ . No, no, no,  _ no _ , Derek.”

Derek’s standing on the floor at the end of the bed, eyes downcast in shame, he looks up and back down in a second, muttering “I’m sorry.”

Stiles groans in annoyance as he sits up and crosses his legs “Derek.” He doesn’t look up “ _ Derek _ .” Finally, the Sourwolf blesses Stiles with his beautiful gaze “There’s my big, burly, wolf of a man, Sourwolf.”

“Stiles.” It’s a whine.

“Derek, stop. I—I didn’t.” Then his hands flail “I did! I did! I mean I  _ did _ . Yes, that was fun, but...you’re taking me out  _ and _ we’re doing the dating thing before we do anything...r-rated. Again. Got it, big guy?”

Derek nods vehemently, his tense shoulders relaxing in realization. He echoes “Got it.” Then he climbs back in bed.

—•_•—

Stiles startles awake from a phone ringing, it’s nearly dusk. He fished around the bed first, under people, pillows, blankets, the whole shebang, then he lazily looks for it once the noises cease. It’s when his pinkie grazes it under the bed when it’s blaring again. Jesus. He grabs the phone and looks at the time.  _ It’s late _ . Who calls somebody this close to nine.

He looks at the caller and excitement replaces his drowsiness, he slides over the green area, he says breathlessly “Allison?”

“What the hell, Stiles! I’ve called a hundred times!”

Derek grumbles “You picked up on her third call.”

“ _ No _ , this is the third.”

“ _ Fine _ , but shut the hell up. Okay? And is Derek there?”

“Yepe, everyone’s here and everyone on this end is gonna shut the hell up. Good? Good. Now tell us everything, Allison.”

“Okay. Well, in the car I was laughing because—Oh my Go—Goodness, Stiles. That was just—”

“Allison.” It may have possibly been a growl.

“ _ Okay _ . Geesh man, put away the fangs. I’m just playin’. Mostly.”

There’s a growl.

“Okay, okay, okay. So I did the thing in the car and was like  _ right Dad? Ahahahaha _ . Then I went inside and was like  _ Ma, I’m gonna move all my weapons and stuff to the basement, okay? _ Then I left and started packing stuff up, you know, to put everything together. My mom leant against the door jamb and just watches me, with super intense eyes, it was really creepy. Then later I grab a box and head toward the basement and I pass by my parents' room. They’re arguing. So hopefully something happens.”

Stiles sets his phone down and sits up in his bed. He starts applauding “Wow, Ally. Great performance. I wish I were there.”

“Yeah, I was really proud of myself.” Then adds conspiratorially “I still have knives under my pillow though.”

He lifts the phone to his ear “Okay. You are a badass. Period.”

“You’re the one with claws and fangs.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it, now go to sleep. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye!”

He hangs up on a yawn.

He settles in next to Derek, cuddling “Well, that went...great.”

Moments later they’re wrapped in each other and fast asleep.

—•_•—

It's around two in the morning when Stiles wakes up to Derek pulling on his jeans from the other night.

“Was’ gon’ on?” Stiles blearily slurs.

“Sh, sh. Go back to sleep. I'll be back tomorrow.”

Stiles whines.

“Stiles.” Once he's fully dressed, he leans over and kisses the top of Stiles’ mussed hair “I’ll be back, don't worry.” Then he's out the window.

Stiles falls asleep seconds later.

—•_•—

Stiles wakes up to an empty bed, screaming and clawing at his arm in pain. Then realizing that he’s unharmed, that nothing is wrong, besides the cold, empty space beside him.

It's not until after school when he's walking with Allison to practice that the panic really sets in.

“I—Allison. I don't know where he is. I haven’t heard—Ally, I'm so scared. What if—”

Allison turns him and with a reassuring hand on his shoulder assures him “Stiles, I’m sure he's fine. Maybe he saw some hunters and had to lay low…” Her eyes widen as they unfocus, then she looks up sharply “Stiles. My aunt. Kate. She was there this morning. At the house.”

Stiles' eyes burn gold. He grabs Allison by the wrist and heads for the jeep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, Kids.


	4. Chapter Four

Derek barely resisted the urge to throw himself back in bed with Stiles, but he needed clothes that actually fit him. He needed a few things. And he wanted his Camaro closer, a safe proximity away. Just in case. And he has to check a few things out. Just to be safe.

It's still pretty dark out, so Derek goes out the window, he heads into the back where the woods meet Stiles’ backyard. He walks through the trees and dirt, soon he’s looking at a burnt out shell of his former home with pain in his eyes and grief wafting off from him in waves. It’s suffocating.

He sullenly makes his way into the blackened house, avoiding holes in the floor every now and then. He heads up the stairs and stops at the room Laura had been in, he goes in. He’s hesitant to breathe through his nose, it’s...too much. He  _ needs _ to do this, someone could...take her...things.

He settles into the charred couch and begins to go through her things...moments later he's a sobbing mess, tears everywhere; quietly sobbing into the shirts that still faintly hold her scent.

Derek doesn't hear the creaking of the steps, nor the click of the gun.

It's a bitter burn in the back of his throat when  _ her _ scent hits him, its tar,  wolfsbane, and burning hair; it's suffocating. He’s running towards the window when he's hit, his world is wholly broken glass and then dirt. There’s a millisecond of confusion before he's jumping up and fleeing to the woods.

He needs Stiles. Needs his Mate. H e—He...needs...Stiles…

His vision starts to swim, it clouds and darkens, warping into black blobs, then fading into nothing. The forest becomes eerily silent.

—•_•—

After an hour or two the demented hunter huffs, annoyed that her prey—her pretty boy—had gotten away, but still smiling at the fact that he’ll be dead by sunrise.

—•_•—

Stiles is in a panicked frenzy as he shuts off the engine and runs into the house, his senses are out of control, with Allison on his tail being the physical embodiment of calm. Or trying to be. Kind of. More of a panicked calm.

He hears her wary voice float up through the floorboards as he’s opening every door upstairs “I’m sure he’s just...he—He must have—Be busy?” There're a few moments of silence before he hears her again “Stiles, he’s alright. Everything’s gonna be okay.” He really hopes it will.

Stiles even checks the Sheriff’s room as well, he’s desperate. He drags himself downstairs and heads to Allison. She had her head on the back of the couch, eyes shut tight, and her fingers twisting together anxiously when Stiles starts silently crying into her shoulder. The only thing she does is grab his hand and tell him that everything’s okay and that they’re probably just overreacting. Right? Then Stiles’ head shoots up and he’s out the back door, hand wrapped around Allison’s wrist with an awed breath of “Derek.”

Allison nearly tumbled over, if Stiles hadn’t held her still she’d have went face first into the dirt. Once she’s steady she realizes why Stiles had stopped and why he’s whining low in his throat. Derek is slumped over a fallen tree, Allison looks over to Stiles, confused as to why he hasn’t rushed to Derek’s side already. She nudges his shoulder and whispers “Stiles?”

He whines and turns to her “It—Ally, it—His heartbeat—Ally, it's so low. I—What if—”

Allison wacks him on the shoulder “Stiles your boyfriend is  _ dying _ ! Go help him.”

Stiles whines, he wants to, more than anything, but… “What if—”

Allison tells him “Everything will be  _ okay _ . Now go.” She pushes him into action, and he’s over to Derek in a second—if that.

He touches the nape of Derek’s neck and wrenches his hand back at the agonizing pain that hits him. The black veins had shocked him a moment before they faded away. He looks over to Allison and she's slowly approaching, he turns back to his slumped over mate, he cautiously places his hand back on Derek’s neck, welcoming the pain, anything to make Derek better. He knows it’s helping.

“Come on, let's get him to the house.” She grabs one arm and hefts it over her shoulders. Stiles does the same, taking most of the weight.

Derek’s breathing is still haggard when they lay him in the bed, but he’s more aware, eyelids fluttering every once in a while.

It’s while Stiles is blearily trying to argue with Allison that Scarlet Witch needs to make babies with Vision, while Allison is trying to tell him that they need a stable life to have kids. Stiles just wants Scarlet/Vision babies.

“But,  _ All _ —”

Derek sits up with wide frantic eyes, searching for his Mate and gasping Stiles name, then he’s on top of him and whispering  _ Stiles _ like a prayer.

“Your—Your arm.” Stiles stutters out in a gasp.

Derek sits back on Stiles’ thighs, he looks at his arm and then eyes the black veins. He wrenches away from Stiles’ touch and ends up scrambling back into Allison.

“Derek.” She says in a patient concern “You’re hurt.” She lightly touches his arm “It’s bleeding black, Derek. We don’t know what’s going on.” Stiles whimpers, because he isn’t touching Derek, he physically aches.

His breath is still raspy “I—” He coughs and sprays thick blackness on his pants, and probably Stiles as well.

Derek looks at Stiles and is about to apologize when Stiles shakes his head with a dopey smile and says “Don’t worry, this won’t be the first shirt I changed today.”

“I’m sorry.” He rasps.

Stiles’ face sombers and with downcast eyes, he whispers “You smelled—You  _ smell _ like death.”

Derek blinks, his eyes start watering as the pain slowly creeps in “I—It was  _ her _ .” Seconds later he’s engulfed in Stiles’ scent with warm arms wrapped around him. Allison’s there too.

Allison stands up and lets them comfort each other for a few moments and then says “You guys? Derek has shards of glass in his skin and there’s still black oozing from the HOLE in his fucking ARM!” She stumbles back and sinks into Stiles’ desk chair as she starts mumbling “Maybe this is my breaking point. Jesus Chr—”

“Ally!”

She looks up “Yeah, yeah. It’s fine, I’m good. It’s just, we’ll… need to patch him up. Okay?”

Stiles looks down at Derek and sullenly says “Yeah, we do.” Then wonders “Why didn’t we do it while he was out?”

“Well, you were out of it and Derek was unconscious. So...yeah.”

“Well come on, big guy.” He stands up and carefully hauls Derek on the bed “I’m gonna grab the first aid kit, it’s…”. He looks around “...somewhere.”

He leaves the room and thunders down the stairs in a rush.

“So...she-who-mustn’t-be-named...shot you.” It wasn’t a question, just a simple statement.

Derek looks up for a moment, conveying his thoughts, then lets his despair-ridden eyes fall back down to the floor.

“Alright then.”

A few seconds later Stiles bursts into the room with a panicked and wide-eyed expression and says in a rushed voice “I got it! I got it! I found it.” Then mutters more to himself as he makes his way over to Derek “ Okayokayokayokayokayokay. This is gonna be okay.” He sets the box at the end and says “Come on, let's get you…” He situates Derek against the headboard and says “There.” Then he pulls the box closer.

“Stiles?” Allison asks, Stiles hums an acknowledgment as he removes the fabric. He gets frustrated and just rips the shirt to shreds and throws it piece by piece to the floor “Stiles?”

“Yeah?”

“Need help?”

Stiles looks at Derek and shakes his head “No, it's fine. I got it from here. You can head out.”

“I—Stiles I can stay—”

Stiles sighs “Ally, I just wanna deal with this and talk to him and see where everything’s at. Then I’ll call, okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll walk. Bye.” She heads out the door.

“Ally!” She slowly walks back in confused “I didn’t mean—Do you wanna wait till I’m done, then I’ll drive you?” Her eyes widen in realization as she rushes out “Oh no, Stiles! No, I wasn’t—I want to walk, if I didn’t I’d just call my dad. Okay?”

Stiles seems to relax “Okay.”

“So. I’m going to walk home. And you are going to patch him up. So...bye! Love ya’, kid!” Then she heads out.

She’s at the stairs when she hears “You too!”

Shortly after, he hears the front door open and close. He sighs in relief and puts all his attention on Derek, then gets to business.

Once Stiles finished patching him up, he sat down at the end of the bed near Derek’s feet, he started to fidget in anxiousness. His eyes start watering and he places his elbows on his knees and asks in a worn out and utterly confused tone “Why? I mean...what….what happened, Der?”

Derek had come out of the haze he’d been in after Stiles had started on the bullet wound, and his heart breaks at the tone in Stiles’ voice. His brows come down in a frown, thoughts of things he really doesn't want to think about consuming him.

“Derek?” Stiles is in his lap, straddling his thighs, once Derek’s eyes are focused on him, he whispers “You smelled...wrong.”

“I...Stiles, I —She—I wasn’t careful, I should have been paying attention, but Lau—Her stuff—Her  _ scent _ , Stiles…”

Stiles throws his arms around him, crushing him against his chest and whispering “Its okay.

”...I'm sorry I made you worry so much.”

Stiles releases Derek from the embrace and says “It’s alright, as long as you tell me how to fix  _ this _ .” He points to Derek’s arm and continues “Because you still look like you’re dying. Your eyes are sunken, your heartbeat is still sluggish, and you’re still breathing all haggardly and when you speak it sounds like it hurts.”

Derek winces as he repositions his arm and then says “I need another bullet. The same kind of bullet.” When it looks as though Stiles is going to burst in outrage Derek holds up a hand and trudges on “I need it to counteract the wolfsbane inside of me...before it reaches my heart.”

“And what if it reaches your heart?” It’s said in a sullen whisper.

“I...die.”

“I’m calling Allison.” He gets up and is dialing her number.

“What happened?”

“No, Ally everything’s okay. It’s just—”

Allison lets out a raucous laughter “ _ Okay _ , Stiles?  _ Okay _ ? Stiles, this is not okay, my  _ aunt _ shot your  _ boyfriend _ . With malicious intent.”

Stiles felt as though he was talking someone off a ledge at his next words “Okay, you got me. It’s not fine. But, Ally...I need the same bullet that  _ she _ used.” He sneers the word  _ she _ .

“Uhm...why?”

“Derek said he needs the stuff inside of it to counteract the wolfsbane currently in his system; killing him.”

“I’ll be there.” Then she hangs up.


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like it's too short, but...who cares.

Allison slides her phone in her back pocket and lets her eyes wander her room as she wonders out loud “What to do. What to do. What...to...do…”

She walks to her door and tumbles back a step as there’s a knock startling her, she pulls it open to reveal her mother. She plasters a white smile on her face as she says “Allison. It’s coq au vin.”

Allison smiles and says with a pitying facade “Aw, Mom, I already promised I’d have Dinner at Stiles’. I was just gonna ask if I could go.”

Victoria’s smile falters for barely a second “Oh. Alright, well, have a good evening then. Will you be staying overnight?”

“I don’t know, we’ll see how the night goes.”

Before Allison can close the door, her mother speaks “Allison, if you’re...messing with this  _ boy _ —”

“Mom, he’s not a child. He’s quickly become my best friend, and you know those aren’t easy to come by.” By the end, Allison’s voice and eyes had hardened, a moment later she softly adds “I hope to be here a while.”

“Alright. Don't give him any wrong ideas.”

“Mom, he has a boyfriend. He won’t get the wrong idea, I assure you.”

“Alright.” She turns and heads down the stairs, once Allison can’t see or hear her mother, she closes the door.

She turns and pushes her back against the door in thought. Back to business. Where would the bullets be? In the basement? Garage, maybe? She just arrived this morning...her guns and such are probably packed away...they must be with her. With her stuff, if they’re that lethal, they must be important. Plus, she hasn’t put her guns with her father’s, so...yeah, probably in her room. Maybe her car.

She decides to check the guest bedroom first, so she puts her ear to the door and listens, once she’s satisfied, she inches the door open. She walks a few steps and peers over the edge, she can hear the cutlery scraping against plates, and glasses clinking. A muffled word here and there. She heads down the hall to the guest room in which her aunt is occupying.

It’s closed. She really hopes that it’s not locked. That would really suck, she’d have to go out her window, hope—With a barely audible click the door opens. No lock, then. Great. She cautiously enters and quietly shuts the door. She surveys the room, taking in the state of it. She notices the light layer of dust still coating the dresser and sees that there’s suitcases under the bed.

She pulls out a suitcase and unzips it, trying to quiet it down somehow. She pokes through it, trying not to make too much of a difference, trying to put everything as she found it. She finds a box, but to her dismay, and utter frustration it’s a box of condoms. Really? Did she think she was gonna bring them here. To Allison’s home. She almost chucks them at a wall in frustration, but an idea pops in her head. Condoms. If she gets caught, she was looking for condoms. She pulls open the box and rips one off, she pockets the rubber and tries to put the box where she found it.

She’s almost to the point of giving up and heading to the next suitcase when her finger presses into a hard edge. She doesn’t let herself hope, until she’s holding a wooden box.

She opens it up, revealing two rows of bullets with a few missing. There’s an inscription, she sees monkshood and immediately thinks aconite. Then wolfsbane. She pulls out a bullet and places the box where she found it.

She zips her suitcase and pushes it under the bed, she stands up and before she’s able to turn she hears the snick of the door opening. She freezes.

“Allison.” There's a lilt to her voice, Allison can just see the smile on Kate’s face.

Allison closes her eyes, takes a breath, and  _ slowly _ turns around, facing her aunt. She puts a fake smile on and throws her hands up in a full body shrug “You caught me.” She gives a nervous laugh at the end.

“And what is it I caught you doing?” Her smooth voice is unnerving, Allison had never noticed. She never had to.

Allison slumps her shoulders and reaches back, switching the bullet for the rubber in her back pocket. She looks up with a guilty smile and shows the condom “Sorry.”

Kate smiles, it makes Allison uncomfortable. There are things she notices about her aunt, she’d never noticed before. The mechanical, yet smooth way she moves and behaves. It’s eerie “Allison, you could have just asked, we’re practically sisters.”

Allison can’t help but bitterly remember the age difference. The  _ large _ age difference. She’s even older than her father. Derek’s just a few years older than Allison in comparison to Kate’s decade or two. Kate could pass for early thirties, but she’s closer to fifty. Allison internally shudders “Yeah. Sisters” she plasters on a fake smile and can’t help but think bitterly,  _ I’m turning into her _ . The fake smiles, carefully placed words and movements, the lying. The exceptionally  _ good _ lying.

“Better get going, don’t wanna keep ‘em waiting.” Kate steps aside, opening the door a bit wider.

Allison nods and says “Yeah, I should.” She all but rushes out in her haste to get as far away from her aunt.

As she reaches the stairs she puts the rubber in her pocket and heads down, she grabs her keys, says bye to her mom and dad, and then she’s on her way to Stiles’ house.

Allison doesn’t knock, she bursts through the front door, runs up the stairs, and thrusts the bullet at him with a breathless and hurried “Here.”

She takes in the sight of Derek. He looks terrible, she’d think he was dead if not for the small nod in her direction. She nods in return and says “Hey, Derek.” She looks back to Stiles “You got a lighter, right?”

“Yeah.” Stiles rushes to Derek’s side, Allison follows. He opens the bullet and the stuff inside, he pours into his palm. He places a belt between Derek’s teeth for him to bite on and grabs a lighter. His eyes harden as he lights it, it sparks and sizzles and then Stiles is shoving it in the open wound.

He pulls back shaking his hand, a wounded, whimpering noise leaving his throat as he tries to get the remnants off.

Too late, Allison realizes why Stiles is in pain. She grabs his hand and sees the reddened and damaged skin, she hauls him into the bathroom and puts his hand under cold water. She hands him a towel and wonders aloud “Do you think it got in your bloodstream?”

Stiles looks to her, his hand, then settles on her with a sigh “I think we’d know by now.”

“Yeah. Probably.”

Stiles dries his hand and they walk back to a slightly panting Derek. He looks much more...livelier. Stiles hugs him, pulls back for a quick kiss and then returns to hugging him fiercely.

After Stiles finally pulls back Derek looks at Allison and says “Thanks.”

Allison nods “No problem.” After a moment she speaks albeit a bit more hesitantly “Guys?” When she has their attention, she could“Am I...like her?”

“Allison—” Stiles tries.

“No, I feel...the lying, the way she is. I realized that we’re pretty similar. Earlier I mean. I’d never noticed just  _ how _ similar. I just felt...terrible. Stiles...I can’t be like her.”

“You’re not.” Its Derek.

“He’s right, Allison. You’re not. You may have some commonalities, but you’re not the same. You’re not  _ her _ . You’re you. Ally. A badass. And everyone loves you for it. Come on.” He pats the bed next to him and asks “Staying over.”

Allison sits and says “I told them you were feeding me. So feed me. Oh and here.” She pulls out the condom and sets it in Stiles’ hand “Kate thinks me and you are sleeping together.”

“That’s...good to know.”

“Yeah. Hey!  _ You _ guys could use it.”

Stiles says “Uh...no.” the same moment Derek says “Okay.” They both look at each other. Stiles speaks first, albeit a bit accusatory “I thought you couldn’t get diseases.”

Allison gets up “I’m gonna go.”

Stiles turns and gets up to stop her “No, Ally. I need to feed you.”

Allison waves him off “No, it’s fine. I’ve been really wanting to try that noodle place past the high school.”

“Ally.”

“Stiles.”

After some debate Stiles sighs and says “Okay, but tomorrow I’m making dinner.” He glances at Derek and adds “For my pack.”

“Okay. I look forward to it.” With a smile, a hug from Stiles, and a grip on Derek’s shoulder, she heads to that noodle place to feast on some pasta.

Stiles settles in thigh to thigh and says “So...condoms.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah to  _ them  _ or yeah we gotta talk about this?”

Derek just stares.

“Well, I don’t wanna use them.”

“Okay.”

“So…”

Derek groans and says “There’s nothing to talk about. I got shot. I’m better. It’s over. I just wanna sleep. Okay?”

Stiles nods begrudgingly “I—I’m sorry. Just...yeah, lets go to bed.”

They’re completely wrapped around each other as they sleep through the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks. For you know...kudos and stuff.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don’t like Scott.

It’s the last ten minutes of their last hour and they have nothing to do in the class. Stiles nudges Allison and asks “How do feel about Kate dying? Because I’m very gray on that spectrum. Like...but...yeah...so…”

Allison doesnt know what to say. She stares at him for a good minute “I—I mean—I doubt I’d be sad, but...who asks somebody that?”

Stiles bursts “It’s not my fault! I have just been very homicidal these past few days. About one person in particular.”

Allison laughs “Get in line buddy. I’m always homicidal.” then rushes “But like, not about you. Or Derek. Or my dad.”

Stiles hears what she didn’t say “Your mom?”

“I don’t wanna talk about this now.”

Stiles holds up his hands in surrender “Okay, okay. Later then.”

“Stiles.” Allison warns.

“Platonically fucking, Allison.” Stiles raises his eyebrows.

She shakes her head, but she’s smiling. After a moment Allison sobers up and says “But seriously, I gotta tell you something. After class. At your house.”

Stiles looks at the clock, a minute before the bell rings, he nods to himself and says “Okay.” Stiles grabs his bag “Lets go.”

As they shuffle into the house Stiles asks “What is it?”

“My grandfather’s here.” Stiles locks the door and turns to Allison with a wave to explain “Him and Kate...Stiles, I don’t know...she was Daddy’s little girl. And they’re speaking in hushed whispers and Stiles...I heard him arguing with my dad about ‘letting me in’. I just...I don’t know…”

Stiles puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder and says “Come on, upstairs.”

Stiles sets his bag by his desk and motions for Allison to do the same. Derek’s sitting in Stiles bed with a book open. Stiles crawls on the bed and kisses Derek on the nose “Dear.”

“Stiles.” Derek glares but there's a smile breaking across his lips.

“You love me.” Stiles says as he climbs off the bed, he looks to Allison “He loves me.” Once he’s finally standing he says “Sit.”

Allison sits in the desk chair, Stiles leans against his dresser, and Derek puts the book on Stiles’ nightstand.

“I just...I’m scared you guys.”

Stiles nods “So. Grandpappy and Auntie are trying to pull you in, and your dad doesn’t want that.” with a nod from Allison he says “Well that’s...hopeful? That he’ll be on our side. If he follows the code. Derek is fairly sure he has no idea about the fire.”

Allison lets out a breath and seems to let go “Good.” she says “That’s good.”

“So, we’re assuming that  _ it _ is going to be happening soon. Right?” Allison nods in response “Then. Derek?” he looks to his boyfriend for a suggestion.

“I think we should just let it happen. Whatever they say isn’t going to magically change her mind. We’ve told her both sides. We didn’t hide anything. So we should see how it goes and plan from there.”

“I agree.” Stiles looks to Allison for an answer.

Allison nods “Yeah.”

Stiles claps his hands together “Alright kids! I’m gonna start on dinner. You cooked the noodles already?”Derek nods, then he’s out the door.

“Derek?”

Derek closes the book he’d just opened and looks up “Yeah?”

“Are you guys going to kill them?”

Derek searches her face and answers honestly “Kate and Gerard, yes. Anyone else, if I must.” After a moment he adds “Why?”

Allison shakes her head “Oh no, it’s nothing. Just something Stiles said earlier.”

“Okay.”

After a few minutes of comfortable silence Allison ventures down to the kitchen, where Stiles has butter on his shirt and sauce on his cheek. “Stiles.” she scolds as she grabs a paper towel and wipes at his face.

Stiles shrugs and says “I’m making spaghetti. Whaddya expect?”

She shakes her head with a smile “Nothing less.”

As he screws on the lid to the sauce he turns to Allison sharply “Do you like sauce?”

Allison gives him a confused look “Yeah…”

“Okay. Cause I don’t. I hate it. Makes me gag. But not like that COCK does.”

“Gonna pretend I didn’t hear that. What about pizza?”

Stiles sniggers and sobers up a moment later “I order it without sauce.”

“Wait wait. You guys have…?” she makes hand motions.

Stiles laughs a boisterous laugh “No. No, we haven’t. Nothing since the first night really. I told him we’re going on a real date before anything else happens.”

“Ooh. Withholding sex. That’s cold Stiles.”

“It is.” That’s Derek.

“It’s not my fault we haven’t gone out on a date.”

“Yeah, well—”

The carefree smiles dropped from their faces. Allison looks between them in confusion, before she asks, she hears the slam of a car door. She sighs “He’s here.”

Derek says “Yeah.” his eyes on the door.

Stiles is trembling slightly. He looks to Derek in desperation “Derek, what are we gonna do?”

Derek grabs Stiles shaky hands and says “Calm down, Stiles. You need to calm down. Everything will be fine.”

“Yeah?”

Derek gives him a reassuring smile “Yeah. It will. You just have to calm down.” He does.

The Sheriff walks in to Derek grabbing plates, Allison setting the noodles down and Stiles bringing the meat. He’s a little caught off guard, it hasn’t been this lively since...since...it’s been a while. And he doesn’t know why  _ Derek Hale _ is setting his dining room table.

Stiles barely glances at him as he says “I made dinner.”

The Sheriff just stares before he stutters out “Oh—Uh...I’ll just be—”

Stiles rolls his eyes as he says “They know.”

“They know  _ what _ , Stiles.” The Sheriff is on the defensive immediately.

Stiles smiles as he says “Everything.” He  _ knows _ that the Sheriff can’t hurt him anymore.

The Sheriff looks at Derek and Allison, then heads for his room.

Allison speaks up first “That was unexpected.”

Stiles slides into a chair “I don’t know...should I have done that? What if—”

Derek puts his hand on Stiles’ knee “Stiles, it’s fine.”

Allison’s putting noodles and meat sauce into her bowl “You should leave. Isn’t Derek loaded? And why the bowls?”

“I—Derek? I don't wanna be here.”

Derek’s fork stops midway to his mouth “I—Uhm...yeah? I mean...I could buy a place tonight and we could move in tomorrow. I have more than enough money.”

Stiles is taken aback “Really?”

“I—Yeah. If you want.”

Stiles puts a hand over the one on his thigh and with a warm smile says “I do, Derek. I really do.”

Derek blushes a small bit on his cheeks and says “Yeah, I can—I can do it after dinner?”

“I’d like that.”

“I’ll do it.”

“So...how long should I stay? Cause like he’s here…”

Stiles waves her worries away with his hand “I’m sure he’ll be gone before we finish dinner. You can stay as long as you want.”

Allison nods “Okay. I’ll leave after dinner, my dad made mashed potatoes, so you  _ know _ I’ll be shoveling that shit down my throat.”

Stiles has his eyes on his plate as he says around a mouthful of buttered noodles “Yeah, like I do with that COCK!”

Allison sighs with false sadness and in a pitying voice says “You can’t help yourself, can you?”

Stiles looks up from his bowl with a smile “I really can’t.”

Derek just sits there and continues eating with red cheeks.

As Stiles and Allison are washing and drying dishes, Derek and Stiles both pause. Stiles’ hands stilling under the cold water and Derek pausing before he can put the bowl back.

Allison doesn’t even blink an eye, she sighs and says “He’s leaving?”

“I hope.”

The Sheriff doesn’t even look in the direction of the kitchen. He just keeps his head down and leaves out the front door.

They finish cleaning and putting away all the dishes and silverware, then Allison grabs the tupperware filled with Spaghetti and says “Well, I’ll be on my way then.”

“Bring me mashed potats tomorrow!”

“Okay.” then she’s out the door.

Stiles turns to Derek with a sly grin “So...wanna watch something?”

Derek says “Sure…”

“Don’t worry, Sourwolf. Come on.” he grabs Derek’s hand and drags him up the stairs and into the room.

Stiles grabs his laptop and settles in next to Derek. Derek doesn’t know what their watching “So...what are we watching?”

Stiles pulls the laptop over so Derek can’t see and says “Oh nothing.”

After a moment Stiles turns it around and presses play. It’s porn. It's raunchy and rough porn. There’s a built and  _ hairy _ man, getting his ass wrecked by some smooth-skinned twink. Derek is hard and closing the laptop before he can even think about it. He turns to Stiles and grinds out “Stiles.”

Stiles has an innocent look on his face as he says “What?”

Derek glares and gets up “Put your shoes on.”

Stiles puts the laptop down and races over to his shoes “Like put my shoes on cause we’re finally gonna do the date thing or we’re just going somewhere?”

“Date.”

“Okay.”

They take the camaro. Stiles is bouncing out of his seat with excitement. He’s looking out the window when he asks with an edge of childlike wonder “Where are we going?”

“A diner.” a moment later he adds “I was looking at movies coming out and that Marve—”

“Oh my god! You’re my favorite person.”

“So the diner, then a movie.” Derek reaffirms.

“This is going to be  _ great _ .”

He’s right. It is great. He gets curly fries and a milkshake. Derek gets a burger and fries. They talk about food, movies, books, and baking, towards the end Stiles is already listing off pretty colors for the living room, because Derek is  _ definitely  _ buying a loft.

The movie’s great. Stiles is enthralled with the action, while Derek mainly watches Stiles because he looks cute on the edge of his seat at every twist and turn. He loves it when there’s a  _ tables turned _ moment where the villain gets his way and Stiles grabs his thigh, waiting in suspense. In general, the whole  _ date _ thing, was great.

Derek’s pulling into the driveway as he asks “How was it?”

Stiles is beaming a bright smile as he says “Oh, it was fine.”

Derek smiles and says “I thought the movie sucked.” then gets out.

Derek’s smiling as he listens to Stiles struggle with the seatbelt before he’s out, backing Derek against the driver’s side and pointing a finger at his chest “Take it back, Hale.”

Derek smiles “Make me.”

Then they’re sticking each others tongues down their throats, and Stiles is loving it until Derek is pulling back to take a breath. He makes grabby hands at Derek “ _ Mine _ . Gimme.”

Derek’s eyes flash and he says “We can’t be out here, Stiles.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and drags him inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and such, Kiddies. Really appreciate it.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nasty stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't like nasty stuff don't read.

Stiles barely has the door shut behind him before Derek is pushing him up against the door and lapping at his throat, sucking bruises that won't be there in a moment. Stiles whines at the thought.

Derek pulls back with concerned eyes ”Whas’ it?”

His eyes are wild as he says “Mark me up.” then pulls Derek back in for more. His hands make their way into his hair and then one travels down to Derek’s hip.

Derek tugs at the hem of his shirt and growls into his ear “Off.” Stiles is quick to comply. A little too quick if the elbow stuck in the armhole says anything. Derek is trying not to laugh.

“Stop laughing and help me, damnit!” Okay, maybe he wasn’t trying  _ that  _ hard.

Derek grabs his hips and says “Calm down.” Then he starts untangling Stiles’ long limbs from the t-shirt. Soon Derek’s on his knees pulling down Stiles’ zipper.

Before Derek can get his mouth on anything he’s being pulled up by a breathless Stiles saying “Waitwaitwaitwaitwait _ wait _ . My shoes and socks before pants. Also, my first time is  _ not _ going to be against the front door because we couldn’t keep it in our pants for forty-five seconds.” He takes in a lungful of oxygen when he finishes.

“Mhm, okay, let’s go.” Derek grabs his hand and heads for the stairs.

They almost don’t make it to the room—Stiles had Derek pushed up against the wall, there was groping and moaning. Derek finally pulls away for air, gasping out “Bed.”

Stiles can’t argue, no matter how much he wants to rip all of Derek’s clothes off, he doesn’t want his first to be against a wall or on the staircase. He’d probably get hard anytime he walked on it. When he finally catches his breath he says “Yeah, definitely. We should—”

Derek grabs him and before anyone knows what hit ‘em, Stiles is pushing Derek back and is on top of him in seconds, licking at Derek’s red, plump lips in ecstasy Derek pulls away first, only to reach in the drawer by Stiles’ bed and grab the lube. He throws it towards Stiles and starts taking off his shirt then shoes and pants, surprisingly Stiles is completely naked before Derek. Derek is actually shocked. At Derek’s confused face Stiles says in a stage whisper “My shoes and socks were off before we got in here.” Derek doesn’t even know.

Stiles grabs the lube and says “So…”

“You’re topping.”

Stiles’ face lights up in excitement “Really? Are you sure? We can tota—”

“Stiles.”

“Okay, so what are—I mean—”

“I’m gonna stretch myself open and you’re gonna watch and  _ not _ come.”

A few moments later…

Derek is on his knees and has two fingers shoved inside of him, stretching himself open while Stiles is watching with rapt attention, and stroking his aching cock. Derek is lifting himself up and sinking back down onto his fingers, letting out small mewling moans whether he’s going up or down. Biting his lip when he comes back down and hits his prostate, even just a brush of his fingers and his nerves are lit up. He wants Stiles’ cock inside of him so bad. He wants Stiles to wreck his insides.

Stiles can’t help but imagine Derek riding him; he’d look so fucking gorgeous bouncing on Stiles’ dick. Going up and slamming back down, chasing his own pleasure. Now Stiles kind of wants Derek to face fuck him. Throat fuck? What are the kids calling it these days? Stiles has no fucking clue. They’re probably saying mouth fucking or something, like the fucking  _ children _ they are.

Derek pulls his fingers out of his ass—also pulling Stiles out of his thoughts—and says “I’m ready.”

Stiles fumbles with his words and finally gets out “Can you ride me?” It sounds a tad bit desperate.

Derek smiles and pops his p “Yepe.” Stiles is a tiny bit intimidated “Uhm...have you  _ done _ this before?” His smile widens and his p pops once again “Nope.”

“Do I—Do I just lay down?” He’s unsure of himself all of a sudden.

Instead of answering, Derek says “Come here,” Stiles does. Derek starts kissing him and tells him to calm down.

A few moments later…

“Where am I supposed to put my hands?” Stiles is definitely hysterical.

Derek sighs. He’s sitting on Stiles and is grinding his ass against Stiles’ dick and he’s still talking. He grabs Stiles’ flailing hands and sets them on his thick, hairy, thighs “On me.”

“Oh. Yeah. Okay.” His hands venture higher and he drags his thumb across Derek’s hip, then his hands slide up his waist, he slides his hands back down to Derek’s thighs when he rises and then sinks down on Stiles’ dick.

It’s glorious. His eyes are locked on everything Derek. The way he throws his head back in pleasure when he hits a particular spot. The way his lips part as he pants out obscenity after obscenity. The way he’s topping while bottoming. The way his hair gets matted down with perspiration. The way his sweat drips down his tanned, smooth skin in slow rivulets. The way his thighs tremble. The way he clenches when he comes up again. The feeling of his ass as it slams down on his cock.

After Stiles realizes that he’s acting like a warm dildo, he starts thrusting upwards whenever Derek comes back down.

Derek’s legs are trembling “Stiles, I’m gonna, gonna—”

“Yeah, me too.” Stiles flips a breathless Derek over and starts fucking him into the mattress in fervor. Sucking bruises into his throat that’ll disappear, and then nibbling on his pulse point as he thrusts deeper and deeper into his mate. 

Stiles latches onto the mating bite he left as he buries himself inside and comes; Derek moans out Stiles’ name in ecstasy as he comes between the two of them.

“Gonna clean up?” Stiles isn’t asking anyone in particular.

“Sleep.”

“Okay.”

Stiles falls asleep where he’d slumped against Derek, Derek doesn’t let Stiles limp dick slip out. He just simply turns the both of them on their sides so that he could wrap his arms around Stiles and keep his cum inside of him a little longer. He’s totally gonna make Stiles eat him out. ‘Cause Stiles would definitely do that. Derek falls asleep with that fantasy on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this thanks and uh...sorry? I don't know...comments are appreciated and kudos too.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is moving out soon.

“I’m gonna turn on the shower.” He walks into the bathroom, his ass bouncing with every step.

Stiles comes back and doesn’t quite register Derek presenting his ass—with  _ Stiles’  _ cum leaking out of it. Stiles doesn’t need to be told anything; he’s up on the bed, dragging his nose down Derek’s cleft to his dripping and still stretched hole.

Stiles is too deep into licking up Derek’s perineum—collecting the escaping cum—to tease Derek about leaving his hole loose. He finds it much more hotter than humorous.

Derek moans when Stiles’ tongue first breaches his—now—slowly tightening hole. He’s finally able to let go when the werewolf magic starts to work again, he starts pushing back when Stiles slips a finger in with his tongue.

Derek is already red and weeping when Stiles is experimentally curling two fingers and hitting his prostate, he nearly comes from that one searing touch.

There’s a punched out moan when Stiles starts lathing and nibbling around his balls. Derek’s moaning and whimpering Stiles’ name like a prayer while he claws at the sheets. He doesn’t reach a hand down to jack himself off and neither does Stiles. Stiles had learned that Derek likes to come untouched pretty quickly and he thinks it’s incredibly hot. So he’s super okay with giving all his attention to Derek’s ass.

Derek has three fingers in his ass when he comes. He may black out for a moment, but he’s so not telling Stiles that.

“You passed out, didn’t you?”

“No.”

“ _ Dude _ . It’s been like five minutes and you haven’t complained about the drying cum smeared all over your ass and thighs.

Derek groans as the sensation come back to him. He whines petulantly “Why didn’t you just clean me up.”

Stiles muffles a laugh and says “You sound like a fucking child, Derek.” Stiles gets off the bed and stands, longingly at Derek’s  slick ass, “I should’ve licked you clean.”

Derek can not be faulted for the moan he lets out at Stiles muttered comment.

Stiles slaps Derek’s ass, watches it jiggle, and then says “No, let’s take a shower, big guy.”

“In a minute.”

Stiles huffs an annoyed breath, “Let me repeat myself,  _ Derek _ .  _ Dry cum _ . Now, let’s go, we have to talk about some  _ things  _ and  _ plan _ . So hurry up.”

~

Stiles is shivering and Derek isn’t far behind. Stiles is glued to Derek’s chest, trying to syphon off any warmth he can get from the warm wolf. If Derek’s under the water, Stiles is under the water. If Derek isn’t under the water, Stiles isn’t under the water.

Stiles’ voice trembles as he spits out—literally “Th—Th—Thi—This—ss is—is y—yo—your f—faul—t.”

“How—w—w ar—rtic—cula—late.”

“I—It  _ is _ !”

“How?”

“J—Jus—Just...Ugh! Y—you w—we—were j—jus—jus’  _ pre _ — _ presen _ —ting y—yours—self t—t—to m—me!”

Derek eyes lose focus as he remembers that is exactly what he did. He pushes Stiles farther back where the water doesn’t quite reach and says “We’re clean enough.”

After Stiles has a towel wrapped around him and he doesn’t sound like he’s in an ice bath, he finally says what's been on the tip of his tongue “I’ll never be clean. I’m destined to be eternally dirty.” and then he winks in Derek’s direction.

Derek pushes Stiles into the room and whines petulantly “I’m hungry.” Derek knows he’s made a mistake the moment the words come out of his mouth.

Stiles turns on him and shouts “Hungry for my COCK!”

Derek just stares at him. After a moment he says “I can’t believe...Okay.”

~

“There’s a loft for sale in the industrial district. Well, a building. That has lofts and Studio apartments and...things…”

“So what? You’re just going to buy a  _ building _ for me.”

“Yepe. And as soon as you say yes I’ll call... _ people _ . A company? To put beds and...stuff. In it.” he adds “Anything you want.” When it looks like Stiles is about to turn this down too, Derek adds “There’s a kitchen. A big one. I know you’re always complaining about the small space in the kitchen. Come on, just look at the pictures.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and sighs “ _ Fine _ . Hand it over.” Derek slides the computer over to Stiles.

The stairs creak and Stiles doesn’t flinch. He considers it progress. Derek does as well, but he doesn’t need to tell Stiles that.

The table is in clear view of the stairs so the Sheriff can see them sitting there. Looking at apartments. Stiles has a mini heart attack because They were extremely loud last night and this morning and Stiles doesn’t know when the Sheriff got in. Stiles and Derek exchange glances, then turn to the Sheriff with calculating eyes.

The Sheriff stares back. After far too long to be considered normal, the Sheriff throws out a gruff “Boys.” and turns into the kitchen, taking the last of the coffee like the monster he is.

Once he is back up the stairs and falling back into his bed with a mostly alcoholic cup of coffee, Stiles blows out a breath of relief. He grabs Derek’s hand and squeezes “That was fun.”

“It was tense.”

Stiles laughs half-heartedly and shrugs “That’s what you get for dating a cop’s son.”

“Christ!” Stiles exclaims as he flinches at the shrill ringtone of his alarm.

Derek chokes on his coffee when he starts laughing. Stiles gets up and say “Serves you right, making fun of a rookie.” He shakes his head in fake disappointment as he heads up the stairs.

“I’ll take you!” Derek shouts up.

“Mhm.” Derek hears.

Once Stiles is ready to go, he asks “Can we go to the diner? I want to get Ally a muffin. Or something.”

Derek gives him an unimpressed look “You mean I’m going to buy  _ you _ and Allison something.”

Stiles nods and kisses him on the lips, he pulls back smirking “Exactly. Plus I have  _ so  _ much to tell her! I literally can’t wait. Therefore, food is needed as payment.”

“I...Okay.”Derek doesn’t even know. He really doesn’t.

“Okay, come on, let’s go.”

Derek follows him out the door quietly.

~

Stiles sees Allison waiting by the steps and runs at her. He tries not the squish the bag of goodies, but, what can you do? He pulls back and rushes out “Oh my god I have so much to tell you. Oh my  _ god _ , Ally! Derek he took me out on a date, may have been prompted because I made him horny with some gay porn, but semantics.”

“Stiles!” Allison Scolds sounding scandalized, but really eating it up like candy.

“Oh and then we were in bed and—Allison! He totally is hungry for my co—”

And now Derek’s leaving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is explicit.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allison's getting into the shit. And some sexual Sterek stuff. Oh and Stiles looks hot in dresses, skirts, and skinny jeans? When the fuck did that happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be fair, this was all written while waning a 12-ounce cup of coffee from around 1 AM to 7 AM. Okay? And it's long, I guess. Longer than the usual thousand or so.

Stiles just finished telling her about how Derek's buying a building and that the Sheriff _totally_ heard them going at it, when Allison says, “Something happened.”

Stiles says “You really should have opened with that.”

“You were so happy and I just...I wanted to prolong that a little while.” Stiles nods but says, “Come on, out with it. Before we go to lunch” His eyes widen.

“What?”

“I was literally talking about myself for three hours.”

Allison smacks him on the shoulder “Shut the fuck up, we barely talked first hour before Ms...Ms…” “Dougherty.”

“Yelled at us. Then, second hour, it was on and off. Now it’s third and you aren’t talking about yourself anymore. Now. Back to me. So. I may have been spying on Kate and Gerard. And they may have caught me. But they were asking for it. They were being way shadier than usual.”

Stiles lets out a long-suffering sigh “Okay. Continue.”

“I told them that I knew they were keeping things from me and I made it seem like I totally wasn’t with my Dad. Like I wanted _in_. _Bad_. So...my aunts picking me up after school and I—” her voice comes out small and scared “I’m scared, Stiles.” Stiles feels this wave of protection come over him. Allison smacks Stiles and scolds “Eyes, buddy.”

“Sorry. Sorry. I just—I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Kate thinks of me as a sister.”

“Mhm.” Stiles nods.

“So, she probably wants me as her little sidekick. Like a copy of her. Right?” Stiles nods “So I just have to be a kick-ass hunter. Then I’ll only kill wolves that try to kill you and Derek and rogue hunters too. I can just picture it now. Gerard's old and shriveled innards spilling out as I drag a sharp blade down—”

“Ally!”

“Huh? Oh, sorry, I get ahead of myself sometimes.”

“No. No. It’s cool. It’s fine.” Stiles laughs and says, “And I thought werewolves had insane bloodlust.”

Allison doesn’t respond.

“So you’re going to be alright. Unscathed through this entire process?”

Allison nods with confidence, “Yeah. I think I will be.”

The bell rings.

Allison goes with Lydia and Jackson, while, Stiles grabs a book from his locker because he is _not_ stopping there after lunch. When he arrives, there’s one seat open. Between Lydia and Jackson. How the fuck did this happen? As he gets closer to the table, Allison sends him an apologetic look, accompanied by a helpless shrug.

When he sits down, Jackass actually acknowledges his existence with a begrudged, “Stilinski.” He’s sure it’s due to prodding from Lydia. As he settles in his seat, he considers that ‘prodding’ may mean sex. He shudders at the thought. _Bleh_.

Lydia turns to him with a perfectly primed smile, “You, Me, and Allison are going shopping for homecoming dresses. And suits...?”

Stiles doesn’t realize it’s a question until he’s squawking in protest, “I’m not wearing a dress! They don’t flatter my legs and I have no curves.” The end is kind of a whine. And he totally just said that out loud in front of the entire table. Which is most of the Lacrosse team.

Jackass says, “Don’t worry, your legs will look fantastic by the end of the season.” These are the moments Lydia _really_ questions his sexuality, nevertheless, she takes it from there, “And you do have curves—not tiny, ‘hourglass’ curves, but you’d be able to see them with something form-fitting.”

Stiles is most definitely blushing. He, honestly, doesn’t know what to say, so he just nods and pretends like everything is normal and not weird and confusing and he really needs to talk to Allison. She’s definitely gonna give him shit for not telling her about this. But he does get to eat mashed potatoes, so, in the end, it was all fine.

After the ‘incident’, Allison and Stiles head to their next class and Allison does give him shit.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

They’re sitting in class that neither of them likes and aren’t really supposed to be talking, so she’s kind of whisper-shouting at him whenever the teacher looks away.

“It never came up; it was irrelevant.”

Allison writes down the stupid notes that she isn’t paying attention to and then asks, “Do you have like a hidden stash of clothes?”

“No! Jesus, Ally. Before my mom died, she started buying—splurged on dresses and skirts. She said they didn’t flatter my legs, that I’d have to work on that, and that I didn’t have much of any curves, said maybe I would later. She did say that I had a great ass coming in though and that the boys would be all over me.” His voice lowers as he continues, “Then my dad came in. I was standing in front of the mirror downstairs and was wearing—I don’t know—a longer skirt. I was spinning around in it and twirling it around. I thought it was the cutest thing. I thought _I_ looked so cute. Then,” he sighs, “I looked up and saw his face in the mirror, looking at me in disgust. Mom, she was laughing and clapping but stopped when I started frowning and got all teary. Then the door slammed shut. They both looked at each other. I just kept my eyes on Mom. She nodded to the stairs; after he went up, she kissed both my cheeks and said _you are perfect no matter what you’re wearing. No matter what_ anyone _—even your father—says. Don’t ever change. If you wanna wear something girls usually wear. You wear it. Okay._ Then she told me to promise her I’d always remember that because she wouldn’t be able to. They fought for a long time. Mom died a few days later. He burned all the clothes he could find—literally burned them in the fireplace. I haven’t touched anything like that in _years_.

Stiles looks around at the empty, tired faces and thanks fuck that no one has caught onto their conversation and that they chose back seats and that the class nearly always has the lights off. But not today. Jesus, those are fucking bright.

After both of their eyes adjust to the bright lights, Allison says, “That’s...a lot. Lydia and I are definitely putting you in some dresses and skirts—ooh and skinny jeans. Let’s see how that ass looks now.”

“Allison.”

Alison grabs at his waist and he flinches inward, letting out a warning growl. Stiles shoots up in a panic but only finds a few curious glances from students, no teacher. He turns to Allison and says, “I’m sorry, I didn’t—” and she does it again. This time Stiles suffers through the grabby hands sliding down his sides and to his waist.

”Stiles,” Allison admonishes, “you’ve been holding out on me. You totally got some curves. Like passable as a woman’s curves. Your mother blessed you.”

Stiles is blushing as he pushes her hands away, and whisper-shouts, “Allison, shut the fuck up!”

Allison sits back on her seat with a contemplative look.

Stiles rolls his eyes, “What?”

Allison bites her lip, “I wanna see you in skinny jeans and...a...crop top? I’ll talk to Lydia tonight.”

”Allison, please don’t talk to Lydia about this.” he knows she’s going to, no matter what he says.

Allison grins because she knows that Stiles knows that she won’t listen to him.

Allison lets out a small gasp, “Oh, my god, what if Derek has a panty kink. Now, I need to see you in panties. But like not..sexually.”

After a second they both say, “Platonically.” They burst out laughing.

The teacher stands from his desk and clears his throat. Stiles is super aware, it’s ragged and patchy. He grabs Allison to stop her from laughing. She turns to the teacher with wide innocent eyes, the old man wilts a little, after a moment he settles in his chair once again.

Stiles swats at her and says, “How the fuck do you do that?”

Allison turns back to him and says, “The only one it doesn’t work on is my mom.”

“Shit, that’s a lot. Or is she just strict?”

”No,” Allison sighs, “it’s _a lot_. I should have probably talked to you already.” Before Stiles can say anything, she says, “After we go shopping with Lydia. You—Derek—buys us a shitton of Chinese and then we’ll do it.”

“Procrastination is unhealthy, Allison.”

Allison guffaws, “Shut the fuck up. _Procrastinate?_ Who’s the procrastinator here? Huh? It’s you. So shut the fuck up.”

Stiles sends her a salute, saying, “Shutting the fuck up, Ma’am.”

They end the day with two essays from _two_ different classes due in a few weeks, which Stiles will, most likely, start in a few weeks. But Allison will be there to help, so it’ll be fine.

They’re waiting inside the school, in case Kate puts two-and-two together about who the new beta is. Stiles is still super paranoid.

_Ding._

With a foreboding feeling they’re both experiencing, Allison pulls out her phone, “She’s here.” They stare at each other.

Stiles gives her a quick hug and pulls back, “Don’t...die. Don’t panic around her, don’t show it. Don’t show any real emotions around her. Or Gerard. If he shows up.”

Allison nods and gives him one last hug, “I know, I got it.”

_Ding._

”Now go, because,” he pulls out his phone and sure enough, “Derek is here.”

”Bye.”

”Bye, Ally.”

Every time Alison leaves, there’s a small part of him that doesn’t think he’ll ever see her again. Alive. It shakes him—scares him—to the core. He just hopes he can prevent that from ever becoming a cruel and brutal reality that he wouldn’t want to live in.

As Allison’s heartbeat starts to fade, Stiles starts heading to Derek.

As he gets closer to the Camaro, he starts thinking about Allison, which leads to thoughts of the clothes, and the closer he gets to Derek, the tenser he gets. He really hopes Derek doesn’t say something. He knows, eventually, Derek will, inevitably, say something.

The car ride back is tense and awkward and neither one of them can wait to get out of the car. Surprisingly, Derek doesn’t say anything.

When they pull into the buildings lot, it’s huge. The only thing Stiles can think of is, “How much?”

Derek shuts off the car and says, “Nope.”

Stiles turns to him, but Derek’s already getting out of the vehicle. Stiles quickly gets out and speed-walks to Derek, he asks in annoyance, “What do you mean _no_?”

“Don’t worry about the cost, just tell me if you like it. Whatever you don’t like, I can change or remove. Just look and give me the word.”

”Fine.”

Derek opens the door and Stiles walks in, he doesn’t really know what to say, “I—How…”

Derek closes the door, “They finished up a few hours ago.”

Stiles meanders around the loft for a few minutes, he comes to a stop in front of Derek, where he’s sat at the counter, “I love it. And it’s so aesthetically pleasing. I mean a fucking piano, Derek. What the fuck? A bookcase? I’m just...wow. And the King bed in clear view of the windows. You’re gonna have to move the bed or cover up those windows.”

Derek shrugs, “I think they just wanted my money with the piano. The bed I can move, the piano, I can call ‘em back…?”

Stiles gasps, “No way, Jose.”

Derek slides his hands down Stiles’ sides and brings them to a stop at his waist, making Stiles hyper-aware of the whole dresses and skirts galore. He becomes rigid and tense; Derek notices. He drops his hands completely, trying to put some space between them. That’s so not what he needs. Derek asks, “What’s wrong?”

Stiles is quiet for a moment as he searches for a response, he settles on, “Derek, I gotta tell you something. Something that may change how you see me.”

Derek’s hands are back on him in a second and pulling him closer, he lets out a growl, “Tell me.”

Stiles hesitantly brings his arms up and wraps them around Derek’s neck. He starts, “I…” he decides to frame it as a question instead of outright saying it, “If I came in here wearing a dress…” his voice drifts off as his mind drifts to heels. He really can’t wait to try them on. Holy shit, Derek better be okay with this because he really needs heels. He continues, “And heels. If I came in here wearing a dress and heels, what would you do?”

Derek doesn’t say anything and every second of silence makes Stiles more insecure and scared and embarrassed. The terrible scents coming from Stiles brings Derek out of his stupor, he grabs Stiles and says, “Hey, hey, Stiles. Listen.” He takes a breath, remembering the things he was thinking about, “If you walked through that door with a dress and heels, I’d…” his grip tightens, “you’d be on your knees with my tongue inside of you, within seconds. Once you were about to come on just my fingers and tongue, I’d bend you over that table over there,” he nods to the left, “and fuck you until you couldn’t remember anything but my name. I’d ruin that dress. But then I’d buy you five more to make up for it. Whatever you want.”

”And the heels?”

Derek smiles, “I’d have you hike your foot up on the table so I could destroy your prostate, thrust after thrust.”

Stiles knows he’s hard and dripping, he’s sure Derek can smell it too. But before he does anything he pulls back, knowing that Derek needs to know this too. He says, “There’s—there’s something else. Allison is being _integrated_ right now.”

"Brought in.” Derek paraphrases.

”But she’s gonna be fine.” Stiles rushes. Derek nods. Stiles just really hopes that Derek’s still in the mood because Stiles is still in the mood and if Derek isn’t then he’s just gonna have to jerk off. If he jerks off, Derek will totally get in the mood, but that’s kind of manipulative. Stiles asks, “You still wanna fuck because if you don’t, I’m gonna have to shove two fingers inside of me and fuck back onto my fingers as I call your name, wishing it was you filling me up—”

”Do it.” Derek growls and adds, “On the bed.”

Stiles is _shocked_ but not necessarily _surprised_. He’s breathless and wetter than he was moments before, he sees the lust in Derek’s eyes, but before he’s on his way toward the bed, he asks, “And then you’ll fuck me…? “

”Hard.”

Stiles is on his way to the King size bed, while he’s trying to take his shirt off. Once he gets to the bed, he pulls the shirt off, he can see Deek in his peripheral, pulling a chair closer to the bed. Preparing for the show sure to come. He can’t wait to have Derek inside of him, filling him to the brim, and then have his cum dripping down his thighs because there’s just so much of it. As he kicks his shoes off, the pants, the boxers, he can imagine Derek fucking him rough and hard, then his mind wandering to what Derek had described moments before. Derek eating him out, covered by his long, floral dress, and roughly shoving three fingers inside of his ass at once, the pain overridden by the intense pleasure plaguing his prostate—it’s all off.

Derek is in the armchair, his pants are unbuttoned and unzipped, and his cock is in one hand, while he rolls his balls around in the other, eyes dark and red, roving every inch of skin. It’s so predatory and possessive and Alpha and fucking _hot_.

Stiles gets on the bed, hands, and knees. Derek can smell the slick from here, nearly, dripping from him, so when Stiles reaches for the stand, to look for lube Derek growls. Stiles shoots up in a panic, thinking he’s done something wrong, he turns to Derek, with worry, “What? Did I—”

Derek grips his cock and manages, “No lube—Slick—Heat.” Stiles laughs but can’t help the hand that wanders back there in curiosity, he presses in with a finger and it sucks it right in. He lets a pleasured gasp out at the intrusion. He gives no thought to shoving three fingers inside of himself, writhing in pleasure as he fucks himself back on his long, fingers. Every press on his prostate just isn’t enough, he needs Derek’s cock to fill him up, to satisfy him. As he starts thinking of what Derek’s cock is gonna feel like inside of his slick hole, he starts saying Derek’s name. Second after second, _Derek_ after _Derek_. After what seems like an eternity, Stiles feels Derek behind him, can feel his touch, it’s burning, it’s electric. Stiles is so wired and on edge that he comes from the first touch, accompanied by the thought that Derek could be filling him up in a moment. His dick doesn’t go limp. Stiles pulls his hand out and stretches his arms out, presenting his ass to Derek, trembling in anticipation to finally have Derek’s cock driven inside of him.

He feels the bed shift and then he can feel Derek slapping his thick cock against his ass and sliding it down his cleft and between his cheeks. Stiles pushes back and cries out, tears falling in desperation, almost sobbing, “Der! Please! Please, I can’t—Fuck, Derek, please! Fuck me!”

Derek stops teasing because he thinks he knows what’s happening. He thought it was a myth, but apparently not. He starts pressing in and is quickly swallowed up by Stiles’ slick, clenching hole, Derek doesn’t think he’s gonna last long, the pleasure it’s just so intense. Every touch is immensely charged with searing, almost, burning pleasure.

Barely minutes later, Derek is leaning over Stiles, “I’m gonna—fuck!” Stiles is clenching, but it’s not enough. He needs… “More!” he shouts at Derek, begging, “I need more, please!”

Derek kisses his shoulder, “I know, Baby, I know.” He knows Stiles needs more but he doesn’t know how to make a knot work—or even come out. Seconds later Derek thinks he’s about to bust, but he doesn’t. He’s confused for all of a second before he realizes what’s happening. He’s knotting his Omega, his Mate. He can feel his cock thickening at the base, and he can hear Stiles sigh in relief and satisfaction as he’s stretched wide. If Stiles was still human, Derek is fairly sure that he would have, literally, ripped Stiles in half. Once he’s fully tied to Stiles, he comes. Hard. In copious amounts. Filling Stiles up with his cum. Stiles comes for the fourth or fifth time, neither of them were keeping track well, Stiles’ eyes water in pure ecstasy as he feels his insides coated in Derek’s seed. He can feel his stomach bulging at the overload of cum inside of him, he revels in the feeling. At first, with a light touch, Derek slides a hand down to feel if Stiles is bursting at the seams, then he sets his whole hand on the obvious bulge and presses inward. Stiles’ eyes roll into the back of his head, blacking out, while simultaneously cumming five times in a row.

Once Derek stops coming, he rolls them onto their sides so he can wait it out. It’s about forty-five minutes later when Derek feels it start to deflate, that’s when he reaches into the nightstand and pulls out the clear buttplug he’d bought this morning. He’s lucky he bought the biggest one. When he starts to feel his cum dripping out, he shoves it in as he pulls his deflating cock out. Stiles is gonna wake up to Derek’s mouth on his ass. Unless of course, Stiles wakes up in the middle of the night from the heat, Derek can’t remember how long heats were—or was it a rut? Derek needs to check the ancestral tomes that he’d shelved on the new bookcase. And find that guy Laura was coming here to talk to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any mistakes? Tell me. Any comments? You should tell me. And leave kudos and whatnot, if you want. Please comment about the cross-dressing cause I just went with it head on and...yeah. Also, is the third beta a baby that is inside one of the two males? Or what? Or both? What the fuck is going on here people?  
> And the next Chapter is gonna be about Allison's escapades with asswipe #1 and asswipe #2. You all know who they are.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allison time!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not as graphic or bloodthirsty as I wanted but I'm just gonna play that off as first-time jitters.

Kate has the window rolled down when Allison gets to the car, “Ready for some fun, Sweetcheeks? Come on, get in.”

As Kate makes her way out of the parking lot, Allison rolls down the window, just in case. She turns to Kate, “So where are we going? Does my Dad know?”

Kate gives her a mildly annoyed look, “Your dad thinks I’m taking you to the mall, so we gotta stop there at some point. Anything you want, sweetheart.”

Allison smiles, free clothes is awesome, and says, “Thanks, but what about...hunting?” Her voice lowers on the last word.

Kates smile sharpens into a predatory grin, “Oh, that. That’s a surprise.”

Allison fakes happiness, “Oh, I love surprises!”

Kate just smiles wider.

~

A few hours later, they pull into a seemingly abandoned gas station, Allison is somewhat unnerved but she refuses to show an ounce of it. She’s going to be a bomb ass hunter. And then she’s gonna drive a blade through Kate’s sternum and drag it down her abdomen and watch as—

“Allison!”

”Huh? Oh, sorry, sorry. I was just thinking about school.”

Kate smiles and shakes her head, “I know that look, honey. You’re not thinking about school.” As she grabs a duffle out of the trunk, she adds with a click of her tongue, “You have so much potential.”

Allison lets her face bleed with excited eagerness, “Really?”

Kate pulls a gun out and hands it to Allison, she slams the trunk closed and looks at Allison, “First thing you need to know: werewolves are real. And we kill them. You too, soon.”

Allison lets the weight of the gun settle in her hold. It feels, somewhat, right, but she knows her bow would feel perfect. She holds the weapon in front of her, she gulps and follows Kate into the building. She expects a werewolf to be suspended from the ceiling or something close to that, what she finds is so much worse.

There is a man hanging from the ceiling. Kate tells her that the man had tried to run away with a werewolf they’d been hunting. She laughs as she says how she gunned down the werewolf in front of his boyfriend and Allison knows she’s going to shoot that man tonight. She knows it like she knows Stiles and Derek are meant to be.

There are three men, aside from the one tied up, in the buildings back room. One is standing by the door Kate and Allison came through, another is standing by the door with a cracked exit sign above it, the third one is handing a baton-type thing to Kate. Who, in turn, exchanges that weapon for the gun that Allison had been given moments before. She takes it with honest intrigue and asks, “What is it? What does it do?”

She looks to Kate who’s smiling, Kate points a finger to a power switch and says, “Press that.”

Allison pushes on the button in curiosity, her eyes widen when it lights up with a buzzing noise. She pushes it further and it gets brighter and louder, her eyes widen even more in delight. Kate is in front of her and to the left. Allison looks up with a crazed glint in her eyes, she raises the baton up and whips it across Kate’s face in an impulsive flash. Again. And again.

”Allison.” Allison looks up from the baton into Kate’s smiling face.

”Sorry.” Allison’s cheeks heat in embarrassment.

Kate waves it away and motions her closer to the struggling man, she says, “Here, try it out.” Allison follows, meanwhile playing with the different levels of electricity.

Well, he’s gonna die anyways, right? She might as well, right? She has to, really, who knows what Kate would do if Allison didn’t go at it, right?

Allison switches it to the lowest setting and presses the tip to the man’s abdomen. There’s a grunt and a terribly small, barely there, welt. Allison’s brows scrunch in annoyance and frustration with dissatisfaction. She turns it to the highest level, a manic grin forming, and lets it hover next to his throat, merely inches away, stilling the man’s erratic struggle. The closer she moves it, the more he leans away. It’s going to happen; it’s inevitable.

There’s a cruel and malicious—almost dreadful—anticipation as she moves it. Then it’s the sizzling of burning flesh and pained yelps and shouts from the man in front of her, the smell of burnt flesh makes her nose scrunch in disgust. She has a distant thought, if she’d had a knife… Though she still continues to drag it down his throat and to his chest, reveling in the sounds she’s eliciting and the wounds she’s inflicting. She knows it’s wrong, but he was gonna die anyway.

When she finally pulls back, the man has passed out from the excruciating pain, his head lying limp to the side, exposing his flayed throat. She turns the device off and looks around the room, all the men have slightly differing degrees of awe and shock. Kate is smiling. Allison’s high deflates quickly.

Allison takes a few steps back as Kate inches closer to examine the wounds, she says, “Damn, kid. This is...nice.” Allison’s not gonna lie, she preens at the assessment. To be clear, this is purely for educational purposes. She has wanted this for far too long. To know how to—it sounds bad, but she’s always been a bit...homicidal. At times. Now she embraces it. Like now.

Kate steps back and holds out her empty hand for the baton, holding out the other to proffer the gun to Allison. She takes it, running her fingers over the silencer, knowing what’s going to be asked of her. She has a faraway thought: they’re going to make a sixteen year old girl to kill an innocent man.

She can’t help but be excited. All the videos she’s watched, the executions, guttings, and seeing all the brain matter scattered along the roads. Now she’ll know if their eyeballs really burst when they’re shot in the head.

Allison looks at the man’s limp form, no struggle then. She turns to Kate, “While he’s out?”

Kates eyes widen before she stops them, “You want him awake?”

Allison thinks she’s said the wrong thing, but quickly dismisses that at the hint of a smile on Kate’s face, she responds with a shy smile and a nod. Kate hands her the baton once again, she grins “Just an electrified nudge to wake him up.”

She turns it on the middle level and jabs him in the side. He wakes up in a breathless gasp with wide and terrified eyes—almost pleading. She doesn’t let herself get emotional. She can’t help him, he’s going to die in the back room of an abandoned gas station. They both know that. She holds it to the front of his head and shoots. He was moving so it’s not in the center, but his eyes did bulge. So those videos are real. You know what she’ll be on tonight. Allison’s gonna ask her father for a new knife for her collection.

Allison looks out the small window on the door, it’s getting dark. She turns to Kate, “The mall closes at nine.” Because if she doesn’t get free clothes out of this, she’s gonna be super pissy tomorrow.

Kate turns to her with a laugh, “Yeah, okay. We can go now. But your real training starts tomorrow.”

Allison nods and says, “As long as I’m getting clothes.”

As they start heading out, Kate wraps an arm around Allison’s shoulders and says, “Yeah, we should get a matching outfit.” Allison does not like the touching, nor the matching outfit idea.

~

Allison sighs as she walks through her bedroom door with several bags on each arm. A few of the clothes were selected with Stiles in mind, but no one has to know, but she will make Stiles try them on. She can’t wait till they go shopping with Lydia.

As she finishes putting the last piece away, her father knocks and comes in, “Honey, Allison. I know you weren’t at the mall for over six hours.” Allison doesn’t turn around, he asks, “Just tell me, was Gerard there?”

Allison turns, “Not today.”

”You’re starting training tomorrow.” Chris surmises.

He turns to open the door and leave, but stops at Allison’s admission, “Daddy...I killed a man. I tortured him and I liked it.” Her lips turn down into a frown, “Daddy, what’s wrong with me?”

Chris holds his daughter tightly, he doesn’t know what to do with that confession. He knows she could never be Kate, but...could she be. Allison clings to him, “Tell me I’m not her, Daddy. I can’t be like her. I’m like you. I won’t hurt the good ones, Daddy. I—I’ll be goo—”

Chris stops her, because he knows she will never be like Gerard or Kate, no matter how she feels. He says, “Allison. There’s nothing wrong with you.” He doesn’t want to say it, but it’s the only thing he can think of, “You like what you like, sweetheart.”

Allison pulls back and wipes at her eyes, “Thanks, Dad.” After a moment she adds, “I’ve been like this for years, Dad.”

Chris tells her, “Allison, you’ll never be like them. You’re so much more.”

”I know. When I shot the dude, Kate totally went bug-eyed for a second.” She ends it with a small laugh, not knowing what reaction she’d receive from her father. His is the only one that really mattered. He smiles, albeit a bit haltingly, but it still came out. Allison, immediately, feels better. Before he reaches the door, she asks, “Daddy? Can I get an eight-inch double-edged knife? For my collection.

Chris closes his eyes, he looks up, “I’ll put in the order tonight.” Then he’s off with conflicted thoughts, though still feeling somewhat relieved.

Allison definitely isn’t calling Lydia and she can’t wait to tell Stiles everything that happened. She hopes he doesn’t look at her differently after this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still like Allison?  
> Any mistakes tell me, thanks.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allison confesses her _deep dark_ secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...there's smut at the beginning.  
> I try so hard to keep smut out of my other fanfic. So hard.

Stiles doesn't wake up during the night. But Derek does. Or well, the early morning. It’s nearly five. And he can’t help himself. He can’t. He tries to resist the urge, but he _can’t_.

Derek can see the sweat glistening on Stiles’ skin and the tremors wracking his body. He turns Stiles onto his stomach and spreads his thighs, pushing them up into a wide kneeling position, with his hole on display, clenching around the thick butt plug buried inside of him. He pulls it out slowly and is quick to plug it back up with four of his fingers while he sucks the mix of his own cum and Stiles’ slick off from the plug, it’s mouth-watering.

Once it’s sufficiently licked clean, Derek places his mouth at Stiles’ rim and pulls his fingers out, one-by-one, letting the cum drip out and down, into his mouth and then straight up sucking it out when the stream gets thin. Stiles is moaning and groaning as he slowly awakens to Derek sucking the cum out of him.

Derek gets frustrated because no more cum is coming out, then he gets a marvelous idea. He lets his mouth hover over his rim and pushes down on the small of Stiles’ back. Stiles’ eyes shoot open and immediately roll into the back of his head as a gush of cum and slick floods Derek’s mouth, sliding down his throat and coming out the sides of his mouth. He swallows it down in fervor, reveling in the feeling of cum going down his throat.

As Derek’s cleaning Stiles up, he wakes up. Again. With a bleary smile he says, “Tha’ ‘as amaz…” A few minutes later when Stiles is more awake he says, “Like...that was a _religious_ experience. I _experienced_ ecstasy”. Derek drags the damp cloth across Stiles’ abdomen one last time, but before he can lift it off, Stiles grabs his hand in a vice grip, eyes wide. He’s wide-awake now.

”Your eyes, Derek. They were red last night.” Stiles lets him go.

Derek takes his hand back and drops the rag. He runs a hand down his face and through his hair, “That doesn’t—To be a ‘True Alpha’ you need three betas—Fuck, I don’t even know if _I_ know myth from truth anymore. I’m sorry Stiles. I don’t know what’s going on. But I know you’re in heat—or a rut? Something. You’re gonna need me to knot you a lot. I think.” After a moment he adds, “There was a man Laura came to talk to. He was an...emissary. His name...I don’t...Maybe...Alan something. I do—”

Alan Deaton?” Stiles bursts.

Derek’s eyes widen, “Yeah, him. How’d you know?”

”The dude, he’s a vet, and he just gives off these creepy ass vibes. Scott—former friend—works for him. He wants to be a vet—or wanted—I don’t know, he never really told me anything in the end.” Stiles shrugs.

Derek gets up, “I’m gonna take a shower and then visit the doctor.”

“What about me?” Stiles pouts.

“You’re in heat. Or something like heat? That’s why I need to talk to Deaton. He would know these things. He was my...he was my mom’s pack emissary.”

“Oh.” Stiles nods. He adds, “I’m still going. It’s happening to _my_ body.” He sits up with determination, “I’m going.”

Derek smirks as he starts walking away, “With a butt plug up your ass?”

No, he doesnt—He looks down and spreads his thighs apart a bit more and moves his dick to the side and sure enough there’s a small end sticking out. “What the fuck, Derek? How did I not feel it? How?”

Stiles hears an, “I’m that good.” as Derek starts the shower. As he gets up he growls, “Cocky bastard.” He puts one foot on the bed and bends forward. He reaches back and tugs at the butt plug. He lets out a small, pleasured whimper. God, he really just wants to fuck himself on this, but… “Derek?” his voice is higher than usual. When Derek walks out, he lets out a small gasp at the sight. Stiles tugs at the plug and moans Derek’s name out, like plea. He pants, “I...wanna ride you. Wanna ride. Sit on your cock. Fill myself up real good. Real good. So good.”

Derek is insanely hard. Watching Stiles tug the plug out with little whimpers and moans and then pushing it in with low moans of pleasure. Then saying he wants to ride him. Sit on his cock. Jesus, Derek groans internally, fill himself up real good. God, Stiles doesn’t know what he does to him. He climbs on the bed without a second thought, not caring about the water.

After a few moments, Stiles finally pulls it all the way out, his moan overshadows the squelching noise. Derek is stroking himself as Stiles climbs over and straddles him. Before Derek can do anything, Derek sinking down on his long, thick, erection. His eyes roll back and he moans, “Oh my, god, Derek. Fuck. So good.” He starts rising and slamming down harder and harder. Destroying his prostate with every thrust down. Everytime he slides up, he clenches, leaving Derek in painful bliss. Once he feels Stiles leg start to shake he starts to thrust up every time Stiles comes down, equally as hard as the other. They’re moaning and thrusting and finally coming, together. Stiles is shaking and trembling in pure ecstasy. He slumps against Derek’s chest, breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath, he says, “We...should...do that...everyday.”

As Derek catches his breath, he rubs small patterns into the small of Stiles’ back, “Maybe...If you take a shower and tell me if you feel weird when we’re not here.” He flips them over and Derek lets out a small whimper at the overstimulation. He bats at Derek’s coarse chest, “Okay. Okay. I’ll clean myself and tell you if I wanna get filled up by your knot.”

“What?” Stiles exclaims in exasperation, “I wasn’t even being dirty.” He totally was.

Derek smiles and shakes his head fondly, “Come on, the shower’s running.”

As Stiles gets up, he says, “You better hope there’s warm water or I’m out. No cold showers for me.”

Derek drawls, “You’re the one who wanted to sit on my cock. Fill yourself up real—”

Stiles holds up his hands, “Okay. Okay. Jesus.” After a second he adds, “Why are you making fun of me, you totally get all turned on when I say that shit. You know it.” Derek doesn’t say anything because he does get turned on. He just continues to the bathroom.

~

As they’re getting ready to go to the vet’s, Allison texts, _Need to talk. ASAP_. He replies, _Drive to school?_. _Sure_. He asks Derek, “Can we take the jeep and pick Ally up to drive her to school? She has to talk to me about something ASAP. Please?”

Derek’s putting on his last boot. “Should I be there during this conversation. It sounds...personal? I don’t know, Stiles…”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. I’ll ask her too.” He holds up his phone for show. She said that’d be a good idea, so I’m guessing it’s about the whole…” Stiles makes claw motions and finger guns with _pew pews_ “...thing.”

Derek stands, “Okay. Ready?” Stiles has one sock on, some sweats, and his other sock is on his right hand.

Stiles growls under his breath, “You know I’m not done. I still have a sock in my hand and my torso is very much so bare. Can you find my converse? Thanks!” Derek finds one in the kitchen. When he goes over to the bed, he finds the other just under it, he says, “You should have smelled that. It was right under your nose. Why didn’t you smell it?” Stiles shrugs but makes grabby hands at his shoes. As he’s putting his feet into the shoes, his face scrunches up in disgust, “Oh, you’re right. These smell terrible.

Derek asks, “Can you hear my heart?”

Stiles at his chest narrows his eyes, he nods, “If I concentrate.”

Derek nods in relief, “Good. That’s good.” He grabs the keys, “Let’s go. Now.”

Stiles groans in frustration, “I still need a shirt, Jesus. He stands, “Just...give me a minute. Go down and I’ll be out in a minute. Okay?” Derek nods and disappears out the door.

Stiles shuts the door. Derek’s eyes are red and he just stares at him from the passenger seat. “What?” Stiles squawks.

Derek deadpans, “That’s my shirt. My dirty shirt.”

Stiles his eyes, “It's not dirty, it’s...worn. And smells like you. Leave me alone.” He petulantly turns toward the window as Derek starts the car.

Derek parks a couple houses down from Allison because no. He’s not going anywhere near that house when he can smell the wolfsbane from here. He tells Stiles, “Tell her to come out.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. He sends, _We’re down the street, in front of the yellow house with roses in the front._. She sends an _okay_ emoji hand gesture. He tells Derek, “She’s coming.” Derek gives a tense nod. Stiles doesn’t feel right, he feels...and then Derek is being...he doesn’t know. He turns to Derek and just looks at the side of his face. He even looks tense. Stiles can kind of smell the wolfsbane, but it’s not that because Derek was kinda standoffish at the loft too. What if he regrets it? What if Derek finally realized he was better than Stiles? That he deserved better than Stiles? What if Stiles did something? He can’t rem—

“Stiles!”

Stiles stutters out, “What?” Derek is looking at him funny, but it’s Allison’s voice.

He turns to the middle and Allison rushes with a wince, “I tortured and killed a man.”

Stiles spares a glance at Derek before he climbs into the back and settles next to Allison, “What do you mean you tortured and killed a man?”

“ _I mean_ I tortured and killed a man, Stiles. What else could I possibly mean?”

Stiles bursts, “I don’t know? Wait, you tortured and then killed the same dude, right?”

Allison sighs, “Yes, Stiles. I dragged an electrical baton thing down a man’s throat and abdomen, I then shot said man in the face.” Her eyes cloud with unshed tears as she awaits his reaction.

Stiles tells Derek to start the car, he turns to Allison and grabs her hand, he says, “Tell me everything.”

We drove to some abandoned gas station. She handed me a gun. We walked inside and to the back. There was a man suspended from the ceiling. He was a hunter who tried to runaway with his werewolf boyfriend…” as she says it the tears fall over and she realizes how fucked up it was. What she’d done. How fucking _cruel_ she was. Her mouth twists in disgust. That man saw the love of his life get gunned down and she reveled in the pain she’d caused.

She’s crying, Stiles asks, “Allison, it’s okay. You’re alright. Everything’s fine.”

She grabs at his arms, “It’s not. I’m not okay, Stiles. I’m—” her voice lowers, “I’m a monster.”

Stiles holds her arms, “Ally, no. Why ar—”

She looks away and bronkenly whispers, “I liked it, Stiles.”

“What.” Stiles pulls back, “What?”

Allison reaches out but he scooches farther away, “Please, Stiles, I need you. Please. I—I won’t be like this anymore. Please. I’ll only do it—”

Stiles laughs, “Allison, do you hear yourself? ‘I’ll only do it’. What the fuck, Allison?” His face is twisted in disgust, “I don’t even know who you are.”

Allison is in tears, “Please, Stiles. I know it was fucked up, I know. I came home and cried because I’ve known there was something wrong with me. I can’t control it. I know I’m fucked up. Stiles, I wasn’t thinking, I just…” She sees the school coming into view and rushes, “Derek, let me out.” He stops and unlocks it. She rushes out with tears falling. She’s shaking.

After a stunned moment, Derek continues driving, this time to Deaton’s.

Stiles just sits there, not really knowing how to process this. She liked it? How could she...they’re supposed to be the “good guys”. They’re platonic fuckbuddies. Or is it were now. Stiles lets a few tears drop. Wait. He climbs into the front seat, “What did she mean she couldn’t control it. And that she’s known there was something wrong with her. I’m confused. Wait.” he turns to Derek, “Is she supernatural?”

Derek huffs and shakes his head, “No, Stiles, your best friend is not a supernatural being.”

Stiles says, “Best friends.” under his breath. Are they? They can’t be. Can they? He looks at Derek with a tilt to his head, “Why are you so calm?”

Derek sighs, “Stiles...Allison didn’t want to kill that man. Because she knew she was gonna like it.”

“I...what do you mean? I’m confused. You’re confusing me. Just let me....fuck.”

“Stiles.” Derek gulps. Oh, Stiles is very much so paying attention and keeping his mouth shut, “I—When—Before the fire...my cousin, Malakai, he was..different.” Stiles doesn’t say anything when Derek stops talking, he holds in every word and waits. After a lengthy second or twelve, Derek continues, “He was a werewolf, but his dad wasn’t. He was human and his family history...wasn’t the best. He had some issues. I remember when everyone was together all the kids would be in the woods. Kai...when he got older...he stopped going into the woods. He couldn’t control himself.” He gives Stiles a look, “He’d see an animal, anything really, and he’d just go after it. He played with it, taunted it, and then brutally killed it.” He pulls into the vet’s parking lot, “Sometimes skinned it alive or left it bleeding out.” He stops the car, “Everyone just...let him be.” Derek shakes his head, “ _I_ let him be. All the kids thought it was normal. We were friends, close. Everytime it happened, he’d hate himself. He’d told me he couldn’t help it, that it made him feel good. I looked at him like he was out of his mind, Stiles. He got this look and...that was the last time I saw him, before the fire. I regret it. I should have...”

Stiles grabs his hand, “Don’t. Don’t think like that. Should haves are what ifs and they fucking suck, Derek. Just stop for a second, okay. You didn’t know. You were a kid.”

“Allison’s a kid.”

Stiles sighs and sits back, “Allison, Ally...she...She is.” He sobers up and plasters a smile on his face, resolutely not dealing with the Allison fiasco, “Come on, Sourwolf.” He’s out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave comments and kudos, please and thanks!


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Allison make up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for my tardiness.

“Deaton?” Stiles calls out. When he gets nothing in return, he reaches for the small gate. There’s a glimmer as his hand is pushed away. He takes a few steps back and looks at Derek, “That’s not normal.” Derek just shakes his head. 

Deaton walks out and asks, voice full of confusion, “Stiles?” He takes in Derek’s presence and everything becomes abundantly clear. Deaton nods to himself, “I’m sorry.” 

It’s Derek who speaks first, “What do you mean, you’re sorry?” it’s definitely a growl. 

His eyes shift to Derek, “I’m sorry for your loss as well. That wasn’t supposed to happen.” His eyes go back to Stiles for a moment, “Nor that.” He adds, “He is a werewolf?” Though they all know that it’s not even a question. 

Stiles lets his eyes glow as he says, “You’re gonna open the gate and start talking, Deaton.” 

Deaton says, “Oh, of course.” as if he’d forgotten they couldn’t get in. He quickly unlatches the door and lets them through. Once the gate is closed he continues, “Follow me.” 

They end up in two uncomfortable seats in front of Deaton’s desk. Stiles’ eyes wander, taking in all the large, and quite old books in the room. He clicks his tongue, now he knows why Deaton never let him in here. “Now I know why you always kept that door locked. You’re supernatural.” 

“Not technically, no.” 

Doubtful. Stiles leans forward in his chair, “Then what are you?” 

Deaton clasps his hands together, “Formerly affiliated. I was emissary to the Hale pack, until…” he shakes his head minutely as he trails off. “Laura contacted me about messages she had been receiving. About Peter being awake. That she’d left him to suffer. I kept telling her it was impossible; however, she came to me a few days ago. I saw her again after that.” His voice lowers solemnly, “The night she died.” Every word that Deaton says makes Derek grit his teeth and tighten his hand around Stiles’. Deaton continues, “She ran into me as I was getting into my car. She looked...feral. Her eyes…” 

“Doc?” Stiles asks when he stays quiet too long. 

He looks up, eyes clearing, “Oh, yes.” he composes himself, “All she said was that Peter’s not fine. Then she ran into the woods. I heard about the body, early, the next morning.” He looks at Stiles, “Your father asked me to see if it was a wolf attack.” 

Stiles rolls his eyes in annoyance, “And? What’d you say?” 

“Mountain Lion.” 

Stiles slouches back, slightly, in unbeknownst relief. He lets out a small, “Good.” in relief. One less thing they’d have to worry about. 

Derek asks, “Have you been to the hospital? 

Deaton asks, “Have you?” It’s not malicious, just an honest question. 

Derek’s grip tightens, painfully, before it loosens and he says, “No, I haven’t.” 

Before either of them can say anything, Stiles says “We’re going later today.” 

“Are you?” 

“Okay. Come on, Der. We’re leaving.” Stiles is already pulling him towards the door by the time he finishes his sentence. 

~ 

Derek asks “Are we really going?” 

Stiles starts the engine and says “Do you want to?” 

“I do.” 

“Good, ‘cause I did _not_ do the math homework.” He looks at Derek. “Now?” 

Derek nods and turns to look out the window. 

The hospital is decidedly uneventful, though Stiles was getting super creepy vibes from the nurse. She was creeping around outside the room. It was unnerving. Derek sniffed and checked the room, then Stiles had discreetly left the room so Derek could have some alone time. He’s not sure Derek actually said anything, but the drive back to the school hadn’t been filled with brooding and angst, so who knows. 

Derek cuts the engine. “Can I stay here?” 

Stiles tilts his head to the side. “Like at the school or...in the car…?” 

Derek looks out the windshield at the bare cement and empty parking lot. “There’s only a few hours left.” 

Stiles smiles. “If it makes you feel better,” he nods, “then yes. You can stay here and guard the school.” 

“Go to school, Stiles.” 

Stiles grabs his bag from the backseat and kisses Derek on the cheek. He gets out and says “We can discuss killing the Argents over dinner, later tonight.” the cheer never disappears from his voice as he says “Goodbye.” and closes the door. 

Stiles gets in midway through fourth hour. The only open seat is next to Allison. 

Stiles slides into his seat. He lets out an uncertain “Hey.” 

After a long moment of silence, Allison says “I thought you were avoiding me.” 

“Not intentionally.” 

Allison laughs dryly. “Right.” 

Stiles finally looks at Allison. “Look, Ally. You clearly have issues, but you know Kate needs to die.” Stiles looks away and back again. He says it likes it’s the last thing he’d want to say. “And well, like you said, the guy was gonna die anyways.” His tone lightens. “Plus, moral ambiguity is probably preferred in these cases.” 

“Supernatural cases.” Allison provides. 

Stiles clicks his tongue and nods. 

After a moment Allison starts, “Stiles...Are we…?” 

“Fuck buddies?” There’s no laughter. No shared looks of amusement. 

“You should have told me, Allison.” He shakes his head. He smiles, wistfully. “Deepest, darkest secrets.” He tsks. “I told you things, Ally.” 

“You were hurting. I couldn’t dump my problems on you. Stiles, I’m sorry.” 

Stiles shakes his head. “Don’t be. It happened.” He looks at her with a serious ferocity. “I won’t let that happen again.” He won’t let Kate manipulate everyone he loves. He puts a hand on hers. “Trust me.” 

It’s fifth hour when Allison tells him “Lydia says we’re going to the mall after school.” 

“Well shit. How long? I wanted to discuss malicious intent with Derek over dinner.” Stiles’ eyes widen. “Which I should probably invite you to since, you know,” he makes a choking sound and pulls his thumb across his throat “that stuff.” 

Allison gives him an unimpressed look. 

Stiles smiles sheepishly. “Too early for jokes?” 

“Yeah, Stiles. Too early for jokes.” 

Stiles gives a placating gesture and says “Got it, Boss.” He adds “I’ll tell Derek. Are we going in Lydia’s car? Or can I just have Derek take all of us?” 

“I’ll ask.” After a _ding_ from Allison’s phone she says “She asks who’s Derek.” 

Stiles smiles. “Write: The beautiful man Stiles shoves his cock inside of, daily. Ooh! Wait,” he hears a growl from the parking lot, “oh, nevermind, the first one’s good. Okay.” He waves a hand. “Send it.” 

“She says OK.” 

“Well that’s bland.” 

“At least Derek will be there.” 

“Yeah.” Stiles smiles to himself. “He’s great.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go shopping. That's literally it.

It’s his last hour and Stiles is fairly sure he isn’t in heat. Like 99.99% sure because he was looking up heats and that shit seems like...a bedridden problem. And he feels perfectly fine, yeah this morning he was a _little_ cock-hungry, but he’s fine now. He’s been discussing it with Allison—plus Derek, sort of—and Stiles thinks that maybe it was a pre-heat kinda thing? He doesn’t know and Derek’s contribution to the discussion is an unhelpful grunt here and there when he’s asked for input. It’s frustrating, but Stiles is just going with the pre-heat thing, hopefully he doesn’t try to fuck Derek in the store. Awkward. Super awkward. 

Stiles leans back in his chair, letting the worries of an actual bout of heat disappear. Then he straightens. “Wait, am I dropping Lydia back off here or did Jackson drive her?” 

Allison hums. “I don’t know. Want me to ask?” 

Stiles nods as he considers it, then says “Yeah, probably. Just in case. It couldn’t hurt.” 

“Okay.” she watches the teacher as she starts to go through the last page of a review for an upcoming quiz. She adds “But after she finishes.” Stiles looks at the clock and nods. It’s about twenty minutes to the bell. In about five or ten minutes, class will be over and they can talk openly—or as openly as they can for the rest of class. 

“Jackson drove her.” 

“Do you know where she lives?” 

Allison shakes her head. “Nope.” 

Stiles shrugs. “Eh. Not that concerned.” 

They waste away the last ten minutes with light chatter about how the days going to go. Then the bell rings and they head to the jeep. As they reach the jeep, Stiles leans in through the driver’s winder to kiss Derek. When he pulls back, he says to Allison “We should have told her to meet us at the jeep, just to clarify.” 

Allison gives him an unimpressed look. “Now that’s overdoing it. She knows we’re going in the jeep, she can connect the dots, Stiles. “ 

“I know. I know. Just...OK. I’ll be in the car.” 

“Nope. She’s coming.” 

Lydia struts up, still a gorgeous redhead, and says “The mall in East Ridge.” 

Stiles nods. “Only the most expensive.” Then he opens the backdoor. “Throw your bags in the back and...yeah. Okay.” 

Once everyone is piled in, Lydia clears her throat, pointedly. Stiles gives her a confused look and she glances at Derek in answer. Oh. He clears his throat and says “Uh, Derek, this is Lydia. Another beautiful woman in my life.” he turns slightly, continuing “Lydia, this is the man I shov—” 

“Stiles!” Derek hisses, his cheeks reddening. 

Stiles raises his brows in fake-confusion. “What?” He turns to Allison and Lydia. “Was it something I said?” He smiles when he sees Lydia huff in amusement. Maybe they’ll become actual friends. As Derek’s pulling out of the school, Stiles asks “You know where that is?” Derek just nods. 

~ 

Okay. So Lydia is actually pretty cool, he’ll admit that. Stiles is kinda mind blown and caught off guard. He didn’t expect to genuinely like her personality. She’s super into fashion, wasn’t hard to figure out when five minutes in, she was tsking at a woman trying on a dress as they passed, talking about what kind of dress would flatter her features. But then she pulled them into hot topic and she went on a search for groot. They hadn’t found Groot, but the three of them have been in the food court for the last forty-five-ish minutes discussing and theorizing about Marvel. 

Lydia glances at her watch. “Oh.” She adds “Okay, enough Marvel talk, shopping time.” She gathers her things to throw away and says “Come on, let’s go.” Stiles and Allison give each other surprised looks, asking _did you know_ , with their eyes. Neither of them did, they’re as confused as Derek is about Email. It’s kind of funny, how wrong they were. 

They went into a dress store and had went around. Allison pulled a few and Lydia had pulled a few. As they’re heading toward the dressing rooms Stiles tells Allison “I want to see you in a suit.” Allison’s eyes go wide. “No, just...I feel like you would look super hot. I don’t know...it was just a suggestion.” 

“No.” Lydia turns. “He’s right. You’d look super cute, adorable even, in a dress, but you’d look hot in a tux. A dark one. Black?” She turns back in the direction of the dressing room, saying “I’ll make some calls. You’ll try this one on after” She holds up her pile for emphasis. When Lydia sees Allison heading toward a dressing room she says “Not that one. We’re all going into one…” she eyes the two of them as they stop at a slightly ajar door. “Unless someone is insecure…?” 

They both respond indignantly. “I’m not!” Lydia smiles and pushes the door open. Lydia sets her pile down and Allison lets hers drop a few feet away. Then Lydia pulls two from her pile and sets them on Allison’s, then puts three in Stiles’ arms. Oh. 

He says “You weren't joking.” 

“No. Were you?” Stiles gives Allison a look and resigns himself to his fate. 

He sighs. “No, I wasn’t.” 

Lydia claps her hands together. “Alright.” She looks at Allison. “Try on the ones I picked first.” Allison gives her a salute. 

Stiles looks at the items Lydia had picked. One is a two-piece, another is a simple black that goes up to your neck, and the last one is a dark-red tux. He’s really digging the tux, mostly because his favorite color is a crimson red. He decides on the tux first. Because of course. 

Stiles is hot as fuck, Derek notes. He needs to convince Stiles to wear that god damn tux. Stiles turns this way and that and Derek just openly stares because he can. That is _his_. God, Stiles is the most Beautiful person Derek has ever seen. Derek is definitely going to take him shopping soon, just so he he can objectify Stiles privately. 

Allison turns toward Derek. “Be honest, how do I look?” 

“Very...pretty?” he sounds out uncertainly. He really doesn’t know anything about fashion, all he knows is that Stiles is beautiful and Allison and Lydia are goddesses as Stiles says—a lot. 

Allison glowers lightheartedly and turns back, wondering “Maybe I do need a tux.” 

Lydia turns around and suggests “How about we all wear tuxedos.” 

Stiles is nodding before he registers her words. “I mean, I’m down. I look hot as fuck.” he turns to Derek. “Right, Der?” Derek nods because he literally has no words. Stiles is hot as fuck, even without the tux. Especially without the tux. Naked. Derek means naked. Stiles is hot as fuck when he’s naked. Derek can attest to that. 

Allison asks “But we’re still trying on the rest, righty?” 

Lydia nods and Stiles says “Obviously.” 

Lydia says “OK, next one.” Then to Allison, “Try on the tux, I’m sure it’ll fit fine.” 

It does fit fine. Maybe a little constricting in the chest, but besides that, she does look hot as fuck. She mutters “I do look hot as fuck.” But maybe a darker color. Black, yeah, that’d be perfect, she decides. And if it was a little tighter on the bottom. 

Stiles twirls the long skirt around with a sigh. He says “Derek, you’re buying this. I look cute.” 

“So the tux then?” Lydia asks. 

“Well, there’s another dress, but either way, that lug is buying this two-piece.” He’s probably going to wear the tux to the dance, but he’s so getting this fucking skirt, it even has pockets. He needs to get Derek to take him shopping one day. If he needed two choices for the dance it’d be the two-piece and the tux. But maybe when he tries on the dress he’ll like it better, who knows. 

He’s not wearing the dress. He likes it plenty. It’s just a little on the short side. Okay a lot on the short side, it literally hits his mid thigh. He’s not down for that. No thanks. He’s good with a long skirt and pants. He turns to the other two. “Tuxedo?” Hoping they’ll skip the other dresses they have. 

Allison nods. “Tuxedo.” 

Lydia says “Allison has two more dresses to try on and then we can make final decisions.” With that, they head back into the dressing room. Stiles and Lydia come back out a moment later. Derek pats his thigh and Stiles quickly falls into his lap. Lydia neatly sits down beside them. She asks “So, how did this happen?” She motions to the two of them. 

The two men exchange glances. Stiles starts “Uh…” and Derek continues with “It just happened. We kind of…” he smiles as he speaks “ran into each other. There were a lot of feelings expressed that night. And now Stiles lives with me.” Stiles nods and adds “We have sex _a lot_.” Derek rolls his eyes and shakes his head fondly. 

“You guys really love each other.” 

Not a moment later, Allison burst from the room and says “I literally got stuck. And that was plaid, I just thought it was light blue. Also,” she holds up a finger as she takes a breath, “I was there not five seconds after they” she does air quotes with her fingers “ _expressed feelings_.” Lydia’s smile sharpens and Stiles doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or bad. He doesn’t really wanna know. 

Lydia goes back into the room and comes out with Stiles’ two piece. She hands it to Derek and tells the other two “I’ll call about tuxedos, OK?” Stiles and Allison nod. “Now let’s go look at shoes.” 

Stiles and Lydia choose heels and Allison goes with dress shoes and a pair of heels because she couldn’t decide. Derek ends up paying for the shoes and the two-piece. As they’re walking out of the store, Stiles teases Allison. “I’m gonna be taller than you if you wear those flats. “ 

Allison gives him an unimpressed look. “You’re already taller than me, dumbass.” 

When they get into Beacon Hills, Stiles heads to a diner because everyone’s hungry again, it’s around seven. Allison, him, and Derek can get coffee tomorrow to talk about the she-bitch. After their dinner, Stiles drops Lydia off at her house, Allison at hers, and then drives to the loft. Derek grabs the bags from the back and they head in. 

As soon as the bags are sat down, Derek is all over Stiles. Needless to say, Derek thoroughly fucks and gets fucked that night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and comments and such.

**Author's Note:**

> So...I'll be posting the next chapter probably Sunday. Be warned I am an extreme procrastinator. But be assured I will try.  
> And leave comments and Kudos. If you want. No pressure at all.


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